


I Heard a Fly Buzz—When I Killed You

by NellieWolf123



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Torture, Elena's a psychopath, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Jeremy is psychic, Murder, No Humanity Elena Gilbert, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellieWolf123/pseuds/NellieWolf123
Summary: Elena is a murderer, her moral compass skewed beyond compare. Miranda and Grayson are dead, through no fault but their own. She's immortal, a half-blood member of the Unseelie Court with nothing to fear. Her first assignment—help Niklaus Mikaelson unlock his werewolf side. And it would be easy, if not for everyone and their cat being against her. AU Elena/Klaus





	1. Chapter 1

" _Where a Ten-Year-Old Psychopath Meets a Tortured Vampire_ "

Elena Gilbert was obsessive, fanatical even.

She  _knew_  who you were - your family tree, traced down to third cousins once removed. She knew what you wanted - secrets and desires, the hatred and lusts hidden in your heart. Elena hoarded great intellect - her brain containing neat little cabinets, colour-coordinated folders to be rifled through when necessity called.

Elena didn't fit society's standard of sanity. Normal people didn't kidnap the Forbes' bunny and drag it out to the woods, stabbing it to death with a letter opener.

She wasn't sorry.

It had begun as a punishment. Caroline had been rude at school, poking fun at Miranda's tired visage. Petty thievery had occurred, Elena walking miles into the forest to perform the necessary act.  _Excitement_ _, adrenaline_  had pumped through her body, hands shaking, laughter bubbling. The fluffy white rabbit had put up quite a fuss, still squirming after five plunges of the knife. She hadn't expected such  _glee_  at the death of another, to feel  _alive_  for the first time since birth.

But she  _had_ , and she  _would_   _never_  stop.

Blood was such a beautiful colour, warm and coppery, and the creatures she'd killed made such  _wonderful_  sounds. That rabbit had squeaked and squirmed, and the glassy look in its eyes was  _simply delicious_. Victory over another being tasted sweet, like the sugar she was rarely allowed to indulge in.

She was a beautiful, capable child, well-behaved before the adults. She let Miranda and Grayson believe that they had power, that they could control her actions. Elena kept her secrets well, placing a perfect mascarade on her little doll face.

However, none of Elena's possessions should have secrets from  _her_.

Her father led a mysterious life. She'd been watching, scrutinizing, for a long time. There was darkness behind Grayson's eyes, and the glint was  _wrong_ , so the ten-year-old girl set out to make a  _right_ , to  _know_.

Breakfast was laid out across the table, fried ham and eggs—Grayson's favorite. Filled with its usual smells of food and coffee, the kitchen was cheery and bright. Brown paper bags crinkled obnoxiously, a humming Miranda stuffing them full. Elena was well aware of her father's itinerary, she'd made the meal for a reason. He strode in, attired in typical doctor fare. Fork scraping gruesomely at his plate, Grayson dug in, smiling at his daughter's effort.

"I have a lecture in Whitmore tomorrow." And there it was.

"On a Saturday? Really Grayson." Miranda tisked.

"May I come, Dad?" Hope flushed her cheeks, eyes shining.

"I don't know, duck. It'll be a really boring day, nothing but talking."

"I've  _always_  wanted to see the college up close. Ooh, please let me! I promise I'll be patient!"

Grayson hummed, hawed, and smirked, taking a drag of his black coffee.

"I won't take you anywhere for  _very_  long time if you don't behave." He wagged his finger, grinning. Each member of the Gilbert clan received a token of affection, and then he left.

Elena happily swung her feet once, squeezed Jeremy in a python hug, and raced away to grab her purple backpack.

o0o0o0o0o0o

The college stood tall and proud, supported by pillars of flawless marble. Equally placed poplars lined the stone paths, the vibrant grass cut 1 inch tall. Young adults were rushing about, pony tails swishing, disposable coffee cups in hand, inane chatter at every corner. Childish giggles caused heads to turn, drawing attention to the unfamiliar noise. A little brunette skipped along, holding onto Grayson's hand, playing the perfect role as she whipped her head to and fro.

Her father's lecture would begin soon. It wasn't hard to beg for a library trip.

"I promise I'll behave." She batted her lashes. "Oh! Origin of the Species!" Elena drug a chair over to get a better look. Her father laughed, picking her up so she could reach.

"The librarian's right over there if you need help. I'll see you in a couple of hours, kiddo." Grayson ruffled his daughter's hair.

Traversing the school's large hallways, Elena hatched a plan. She had to have a good lie thought out if Grayson were to ask.  _I was looking for the bathroom._ Simple and logical was always best.

Elena excelled at finding hidden things, paths being her specialty. The little girl skipped along, humming to herself. Nobody stopped her, just watched as the child flew by, assuming she belonged to a teacher.

There was light, yellow and bright, showing her the way. It always did. Her buckle-up Mary Jane's clipped and clopped along the floor, the hallways more barren the further gone. Only the occasional scurrying student was spotted, an upper year, arms drowning via book overflow.

One more hallway, one more stairwell - Elena stood before a clinically white, passcoded door.

Science Lab, Jason Whitmore, MD.

The girl took a look around, merely the cricket's music. Shutting herself in the janitor's closet, Elena drug a stool before the window, staring through criss-crossed, blurry panes. Impatient, shrouded in darkness and heavy chemicals, she tapped her foot.

Mere minutes later, a young man strode up to the entrance. He had an arrogant sneer across his face, blond hair perfectly styled, his mannerisms not unlike that of a peacock.  _Beep, beep, beep, beep_. A four digit code? But no, after thirty seconds the screen went red, the  _second_  code the true key. The white lab coat disappeared.

Elena grinned. She squirmed through five minutes time, bursting out of the closet and skipping over to the keypad. The door was heavier than she'd imagined, her weak arms barely enough to allow the child to slip through.

An empty room, appearing to be a standard lab. Microscopes lay in rows, shelves lined with chemicals and slides, blboldened notes pasted upon the walls - reminders of procedure. An obnoxious, buzzing sound echoed throughout, the bright overhead lights whirring like an overheated computer.

Where had he gone?

Something was off, a file cabinet not quite straight against the stark-white wall. Elena approached, grabbing a drawer handle and pulling. The entire cabinet swung away, revealing a small, shadowed doorway.

Jackpot.

The trail of concrete steps led down, Elena carefully descending. The man couldn't have disappeared. It was best to remain vigilant.

Murmurs and grunts could be heard, an odd, familiar scent in the air—copper. The stairs led to a hallway with three doors on each side, one at the very end—the sole displayer of light.

Standing on her tiptoes, Elena peered through the door's glass window, encountering quite a sight.

A man was laid upon a table, large circles of metal binding his feet and hands. His bare chest was heaving, blood slithering over his body. There was a gaping hole on his right side, slowly stitching together. The "scientist" had extracted a… kidney. She crooked her head. The peacock washed his bloody hands and exited into a side room, expression uneffected.

The immortal's eyes had wandered over to her, sensing movement. They were large and brown, surprised and pleading. The stench was stronger here, blood, chemicals, and dust.

She pressed a finger to her lips, giggling as she snatched the key from the desk. The girl made quick work of the cuffs. Enraptured, doe eyes became fixed on the now released creature. He was tall, haggard, purple veins appearing under his eyes, his canines elongated. Speeding over to the fridge, the man raided the blood bags, sucking greedily. Elena twiddled her thumbs as she waited.

"No, no, of course not—"  _Squelch_ —said the snapped neck of the doctor. A lifeless body dropped to the floor, the man's cellphone smashing with a satisfying crash.

The murderer approached.

"Now what's a little girl doing down here?" He stooped to her level.

"Hello, my name is Elena Gilbert." She stuck her little hand out, clasping fingers with her first vampire.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Lorenzo St. John. I've met your father."

"I knew it!" Smiling, the girl began tugging him towards the door. "Would you find it odd if I watched you eat a human?"

"I think the proper verb would be drink." A dangerous smirk spread across his lips. "Would you like to come with me?"

"And you'll answer my questions?"

"Most of them."

Elena nodded enthusiastically, "My father will be so worried." She stated.

"That's the intention."

o0o0o0o0o

The stolen Pontiac revved, reversing into a mess of vehicles before making it out of the parking lot. Elena was an eager guide, pointing out the controls and defining the road signs. Her little heart beat quick, not from fear—he would've smelled that—from excitement. Enzo applauded the control he had showcased so far. Her blood smelled amazing, and he was  _free_ to do whatever he fancied.

"Left will take you downtown, right towards the suburbs, and if you continue straight you'll hit Mystic Falls in about an hour."

"That your hometown?"

"Yup." She popped the p. "So if you ever want to kill my dad, that's an option."

The man raised a brow. "You really don't care about your bloody father?"

Elena plead the fifth, appearing enraptured by the sights her window provided.

Messily parking the car in a driveway, Enzo exited the vehicle, little doll shoes following. He lightly tapped a knock, the heavy smell of cigarette smoke leaking from an open window.

"What do you want?" Grunted the middle-aged woman. She was attired in wrinkled nurse's uniform, frayed blonde hair streaked with gray, her mouth scowling around a cigarette.

"Be a dear and ask me to come in."

"Come in."

"Thank you, luv." His eyes grew dark, veins running across his face—Enzo stepped over the threshold. "Don't scream."

Fangs pierced skin, the hot blood oozing into Enzo's mouth. Elena took a seat, watching her second murder of the day.

While Enzo had originally planned to kill the little Elena, he quickly found it an impossible task. She was a charming, fearless little creature. He'd killed a human in front of her, and the child had giggled,  _giggled_!

It would've almost been concerning—if Enzo had been the type to care. Elena was just as psychopathic as her father was, without the race discrimination.

"Is vampirism hereditary?"

"No. You need to die with vampire blood in your system."

"Have you ever turned anyone?"

He shook his head, dripping the gas over the corpse. Elena's odd smile was illuminated, the little hand throwing a match down on the dead smoker.

Enzo picked her up, speeding the two away into the stolen vehicle, leaving the rising flames to burn and obscure.

O0o0o0o0o0o

"Yes officer, we understand. Thank you." The phone clicked as Miranda laid it down, her face tear-tracked and wrinkled from worry. Grayson placed his hand over hers, the sorrow-stricken adults exchanging a glance.

"Hi!" Elena came bounding in, wearing a pretty pink dress with a white sash, her purple backpack covered in stickers.

"My darling!" Miranda hugged her daughter tight. Grayson watched, incredulous. She was clean, unmarked, face rosy and healthy.

"You're alive."

"Yup." She popped the p. "My kidnapper couldn't put up with me for any longer."

"Are you alright, duck?" He stooped, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You were gone for two weeks, we… we thought you were dead."

"But I wasn't." She stated, confused at the question.

"Darling," Miranda was close to tears, hysteria well on its way. "Who took you? Were you hurt? Please, what happened."

"I don't remember much." Elena blinked.

Grayson stood abruptly, "I'm calling the police. I'll let them know you're okay."

"You were searching for me?"

"Of course sweetie, there was an AMBER alert across the country."

"Cool." Elena bounced over to the fridge, pulling out a soda. "May I have this?"

"Sure, go right ahead." The mother's shoulders started to shake. "Jeremy! Get down here!"

A mousy brunet boy thumped down the stairs, fearing punishment. "Wow." He stopped dead, face draining of colour. "Elena!" Jeremy hugged his sister tight. "Caroline and Bonnie have been pestering me every day about you!"

The ten year old just patted his back. "I'm sorry, I'll tell them to behave better for the next time."

Grayson dropped the phone. "The next time?"

"Just in case I get kidnapped again, you know? Can't have everyone acting like some chickens with their heads cut off."

He hugged her tight, "That's never gonna happen again, you hear me! Don't talk like that!"

Elena shrugged, passive aggressive. She knew  _at this point_  she could get away with  _murder._


	2. Where a Psychopath Kills Someone

" _Where a Psychopath Kills Someone_ "

Caroline's thirteenth birthday party was like all those before it.

Pink.

The little blonde had gone all out, colourful streamers hung from the ceiling, pink sheets covered the furniture, and little art stations were set up in each corner. The dining table was heavy laden, finger food—little sandwiches and cakes. Tea was in china cups—baby-blue flowers on the sides—with a plethora of choices.

A thirteen-year-old girl's highest idea of sophistication.

A pink puffball bounded in, animated and glowing. Caroline greeted Elena and took her coat, curtseying in her poofy princess dress. She must have spent ages on her blonde ringlets, pink eyeshadow, and perfectly-winged eyeliner.

"I couldn't even sleep I was  _so_  excited! Ooh, it's gonna be so much fun! We're going to—oops, that must be Bonnie!"

The kitchen was clean and sparkling, the calm before the storm. Caroline's parties always ended up leaving the entire house in an outrageous state.

Mrs. Forbes—her eyes happy and stressed—was putting the finishing touches on Caroline's cake, "Hello Elena."

"Hello Mrs. Forbes. The house looks great. Caroline's gonna have a blast."

The blonde woman smiled wide, "I hope so. Now, I need to make myself scarce. Have fun."

An innocent Elena blinked, "I'll certainly try."

"Bonnie and April are here!" Sung Caroline, tugging the two girls by their wrists.

"Yay!" She clapped her hands together. "Now we can have the tea party!"

Parties were monotonous, dragging creatures. Creatures that Elena wouldn't mind hanging from a tree, slicing out its intestines, and then sticking her hand in and snapping its ribs, one at a time. A slow, torturous death would be  _perfect_.

Alas, that was not to take place. Elena had to be logical, and information was the easiest way to obtain control. Always—at some point in the night—the girls would want to swap secrets. If Elena pried correctly, she could obtain the perfect blackmail.

"Oh my gosh! I totally forgot! Guys, I kissed Tyler!" Caroline confided.

The girls all squealed, each giving the blonde a hug in congratulations.

April sighed, "I wish I could be kissed."

Bonnie patted April's arm, "You will. Someday, some awesome guy is gonna sweep you right off your feet."

Elena traced pattern onto Caroline's carpeted floor. While she loved murder, blood, and power—she had yet to be able to raise on interest for sex. The girl had never had a crush, or wanted to kiss  _anybody_. It was a bit concerning.

She grinned.  _Who wants to be normal anyway? I'd rather rip out some hearts._

"Come on, Elena! Who do you like?" Squeaked the yellow-haired bird. A bottle of vodka was in the middle of the circle, the girls on their bellies, swinging their feet.

"Mason Lockwood." She "confessed," joining the girls in their hapless giggles.

"He's so sexy." Slurred April Young, laughing and kissing Bonnie's cheek. "What about you, Bonnie, secrets?"

Caroline took a swig from the bottle. "I love girl talk!" She capped and rolled it under the bed. "So, Bonnie?"

The rabbit darted her eyes around, "Well, Grams thinks she's a witch."

Caroline and April laughed, trying to keep quiet (two adults were just downstairs) and failing miserably. Elena leaned forwards, "What did she say, exactly?"

Bonnie twiddled her thumbs, "She just likes to rant whenever she's drunk, is all. 'Your ancestors are from Salem, a long line of powerful witches,' bla ba bla."

Elena made a mental note, joining the others in "drunken" laughter.

Little, stocking-clad feet tiptoed down the hallway, a flashlight held in hand. Elena carefully descended the steps, skipping the squeaky ones. Her goal—find anything Mr. and Mrs. Forbes had on vampires. She knew the Town Council still existed, and the Forbes were most definitely members.

There was light coming from underneath a door—the study. Mr. Forbes was awake. A face-to-face confrontation was even better, excitement raced through her veins. Elena pushed open the door.

Bill was staring at the wall, face scrunched in contemplation, a half-empty wine glass in his hand.

"Hello Mr. Forbes."

He blinked away the heavy thoughts. "Hello Elena." Sticking on a fake smile, he put the alcohol to the side. "What are doing up so late?"

Silent, she walked over to the bookshelf, sliding her hand over the spines. "I had to finish my book."

He leaned back, readying himself for the conversation. "And what book would that be?"

Elena skipped over to the chair opposite Bill, seating herself with grace and arranging her party dress. "Have you ever heard of Jonathan Gilbert?"

He smiled warily, "More than a few times, yes."

"I discovered his journals. He was quite an,  _interesting_  man."

Mr. Forbes stiffened, turning fully towards the girl. "What do you want to know?"

"I want training against vampires. Either you, or someone you know, can teach me." Elena's expression was calm, examining her newly painted nails.

Blue eyes scrutinized the little girl. "You remember more about the abduction than you've let on."

Elena grinned, "I like a man that can think." She adjusted her dress primly. "I'm not going to tell you about it, if that's what you're thinking. The vampire was very kind in allowing me to keep my memory." She kept herself from an evil giggle, remembering the fun she'd had.

Fangs piercing skin, blood, terror—Enzo did so love to make them  _scream._

Elena had been the perfect bait. "I've lost my dad! Our car broke down!" Or even a simple dose of crocodile tears, wails and pointing.

"Why won't you ask your father?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to hunt vampires. I want to be able to defend myself."

He nodded, slowly. "That's a big difference. May I ask why you don't consider them a threat?"

"Sir, with all due respect. That's not what I said. Look, are you going to teach me or not?"

Sighing, Bill Forbes pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess some self-defence classes wouldn't hurt. But don't start celebrating yet." He wagged his finger side to side. "What's to keep me from telling your father?"

A malicious grin spread across Elena's face, "Because now you'll have something to hold over his head."

"Ah," Nodding, he shooed her out of the chair. "Eight o'clock, Saturdays, the old Salvatore house ruins."

"Agreed." Elena skipped out of the room, her feet barely meeting the floor.

o0o0o0o0o

Goal: Obtain information about Mystic Fall's vervain supplier.

William had agreed to share his portion with Elena, but it was clear she needed her own source.

If only because she rather liked the idea of burning the face off of a vampire—and watching it regrow.

After many months of wheeling, dealing, and batting the lashes, Bill had finally spilled the deats.

Zach Salvatore.

He answered his door at noon on a Saturday, his hair sleep-mussed, eyes half-glazed, and one foot sockless.

"Hi Mr. Salvatore! I'm so sorry! I would've called first, but I don't have your number."

Frowning, he shook his head a bit, "Yea, no, it's all good. What can I do for you, Elena?"

"I actually have a bit of business proposition for you," she rocked back on her heels, "Now I've heard about your extensive library, and I was wondering if you would allow me access in exchange for… let's say house or yard work?"

"Did you walk? Do your parents know you're here?"

Her forehead wrinkled, nostrils flared, fists clenched, knuckles turning white. "I'm going to take that as a 'no,' thank you for your time, Mr. Salvatore."

Zach watched her go. Elena's anger reminded him disturbingly of Damon; the look his Great Uncle got when someone belittled him.

The expression he had before someone lost a head.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Elena had been well aware her plan might not work. But she'd been willing to give Zach a chance, one chance, before the fight got dirty.

"It feels wrong, Caroline. He's so much older than me, but I just can't help it."

Caroline tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, face serious, eyes gleaming. "Elena! We all get crushes sometimes! You don't need to be ashamed." She patted Elena's hand. "Look, how about I make him come to the Founder's Day Party? He's a mean old hermit, and you'll take one look at him and the feelings will be long gone." She grinned, shiny white teeth on display. "Poof! No more crush on Zach Salvatore."

"Thanks Care, I really appreciate it."

o0o0o0o0o

The voices of Miranda, Grayson, and Jeremy could be heard in the kitchen. Breakfast was being prepared.

Elena stood in the hallway, still clad in her pajamas, and stuck a finger down her throat. She choked and hurled, loud and wretched, as yesterday's meal came back up—along with a healthy side of stomach acid.

"Elena?" Miranda appeared, having leapt up the stairs. She rubbed soothing circles on her daughter's back, gesturing at Grayson to deal with the vomit. "Come on sweetie, let's go get you cleaned up."

o0o0o0o0o

"And you're really okay with staying home?"

"Mom, seriously! You know I'll call you if I start running a fever over 101." Elena waved Miranda away, sighing loudly.

"Yes, yes, I know." Elena's mother kissed her forehead, smiling softly.

"Goodbye, duck." Grayson did the same, dragging a petulant Jeremy by the wrist.

"You all look great. I hope you have a good time."

The Gilbert family waved goodbye; the door slammed shut, and the humming sound of the family van left her ears.

Elena tugged on some dark clothing, packed a rucksack, and managed to dig Jeremy's skateboard out from the garage. She knew the consequences of driving without a licence, and unless she were to suddenly gain the ability to control minds, it wasn't an option. Her reputation had been built by many bricks of hard work, flattery, and painful conversation.

The moon was bright, a good thing for Elena. Her large hoodie and ballcap hid her face and shape, but she still needed light to make it to the Salvatore house.

It was dark and silent, just as she'd hoped. The door squeaked open compliantly.

Glowing light led her to where she desired, past the the large parlor, behind the tapestry, and into the basement. Her shoes clicked and clopped along the stone steps, the girl happily skipping towards her prize.

There was only one door—having strong bars instead of a window—made entirely of metal. It was secured by a large lock, a trifle to Elena. She pulled a large hammer from her bag, pulverising the lock within seconds. Metal dust flew into the air, shrapnel going everywhere.

This wasn't an incognito mission.

The inside was dirty and dusty, one corner being set aside for the plants. It was quite a large supply, rows and rows of the purple flower, the pungent smell filling the room. She took only one, using a trowel to get the roots, and placed it in a plastic, breathable container. The vervain secured, Elena banged at the table holding the plant, shaking and disrupting, until the dirt had spread evenly. Unless Zach counted his plants, he would only think someone had caused damage for fun, or out of anger. That was the plan.

Elena sauntered up the stairs, fixing her hair in a mirror, and took a short perusal of the library.

A door opened and slammed, heavy breaths, moans, and groans coming from the entrance hall. Elena tiptoed over to the corner and took a peek.

Two people, dressed in standard club fare, were flinging the clothes off of each other. The man ripped the woman's shirt in half, nipping at her neck. Her head hit the wall, an "ugh" resonating throughout the room. Both were well-built, young, and attractive.

 _He_  was looking at Elena.

"Go up to the first room on the right and stay there." He curled his hand possessively around the woman's neck before letting her go. "Who are you?"

"Elena Gilbert, here on matters of great importance." She stepped forward, offering her hand. "You must be Damon Salvatore."

"So young." He stepped around her, pouring a Bourbon and downing it in a gulp. Damon sauntered back over to Elena, his pupils dilating as they met hers. "Go home. Forget you ever saw me."

Doe eyes burnt the leather clad back as the smug, uncaring man strode away, her fists clenched, jaw tightened, heart beat becoming slow and steady.

Ice flowed through Elena's veins.

Little stocking feet sauntered up the stairs, the fifteen-year-old's face tight and firm, fingers dancing a song on the hand rail.

She opened Damon's door.

Blood spurted from the human's carotid artery, a gasp echoing throughout the room. The woman, eyes wide, body twitching, reached up to touch the murder weapon—an arrow.

Blue eyes sharpened as Damon turned, shoulders back, a humorless grin stretched across his lips. Elena stood in the doorway, eyes crinkling, breathlessly giggling as the woman died. In her hands was a compound crossbow, a skill taught to her by William Forbes.

"Now then," he tutted, "Stealing someone's kill isn't very nice."

Elena grinned, bouncing over to the corpse. "Leaving your friend to die in St. Augustine's isn't  _nice_  either, but you did it." She trailed her hand through the blood, looking like a grotesque finger painter.

Damon slammed the laughing girl against the wall. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, Lorenzo hasn't found you yet? You'd think five years would be enough, Damon. You aren't very subtle." She pressed her hand to his cheek, smirking at the red print it left there.

"Enzo's alive." He let go of Elena, hands shaking, expression miserable.

"Well of course he is. I freed him."

"You're a crazy little girl." Damon spat, pacing back and forth.

"Why would I lie? Especially about  _Butterfingers_?" Her face contorted, eyes dilating. "Isn't it just so  _marvelous_."

He followed her gaze—the body on the floor. Elena sat next to the corpse. "Hello, little dead one." She kissed the slain woman's cheek. The girl turned to Damon. "Do you wanna kill some people together?"

Crouching, Damon stroked a finger over her cheekbone. She looked so much like Katherine. It would drive Stefan insane. "Let's go raise some hell."


	3. Damon and Elena

_Damon was aware that Elena was insane. That she killed without hesitation, that she—unlike him—wasn't pretending. Yet she felt—laughed, angered, and smiled. And he knew she didn't have any reason keep him alive. But he couldn't kill her. Not with that face._

Elena's room was boring, characterless, the walls painted a dull white, clothing neatly folded and hung in their respective places. The sound of a scratching pencil filled the space, focused eyes working the homework to perfection. She loved intellect, being about to triumph over those less clever. And high grades helped to raise the level of her already perfect reputation.

It was so much better when you were suspected by no one. When they didn't know how much you'd delight in seeing their brains stream from their ears, their hoarse screams of death, the convulses of their dead body.

"Hello Elena."

"Hello Damon." She turned around, dimpling at the sight of the vampire. Death was fun, but all the more when you had someone to  _share_  it with. Damon understood a small fraction of Elena, more than anyone else that claimed to be a friend.

"Get your stuff, I'm kidnapping you." He demanded, blue eyes twinkling, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. Elena happily skipped around, shrugged on a jacket, wrote a note, and grabbed her ready-made backpack.

"Where are we going?"

"Crazy, my little murderess."

Damon's lamborghini hummed down the road, a content cat—fat and fed.

"Miranda and Grayson are getting suspicious."

"But do they know you're a sadistic little killing machine who enjoys talking to her kills long after their gruesome death?"

She threw her head back, laughing. "Have you ever killed a parent?"

"No, that was  _Stefan's_  job." His face darkened, features becoming pinched.

"Who'd he kill?"

"Numerous people, he blacked out as he fed, ripping them  _limb_  from  _limb_."

" _Damon_ , now I'm absolutely  _dying_  of curiosity." She pouted.

He looked at her, eyes dark, smirking. "He killed my father, right after forcing me to complete the change. Kinky little bunny eater, that one."

Her attention was grabbed by his earnestness. Elena took it as a challenge, voice confident and harsh. "That certainly explains the  _mess_. May squirrels forever eat his toes."

A self-deprecating grin stretched across Damon's lips. "You love it. You sadistic little pixie."

Their voices joined in laughter, grating, unhappy, but sharing, if only a portion.

* * *

The club was loud, music pounding, voices yelling, feet stomping. Alcohol, sweat, and various drugs filled the air, meshing together into the smell of opportunity. It was dark, Damon's hand the only thing that kept Elena from being swept up into the sardine-packed, buzzing crowd.

A grin was stretched across his lips, the flashing lights occasionally blinking hints at his sharp jawline, hunting eyes, and strong, confident body.

Elena was calm and collected, her steps even, face passive, but her heart beat quick  _thump-thump-thump_. Excitement coursed through her veins, greater than any drug high. Damon led her to the calmer outskirts, the girl's eyes flickering about in search for the perfect prey.

A man was sitting alone at the bar, staring forlornly at the alcohol before him. He was dashingly handsome, hair buzzed short, arms ripped, face grim and mysterious. After mere seconds of watching, Elena had already seen him turn away three attractive, horny women.

Elena turned to Damon, her face lit, "That one's  _mine_."

He chuckled, deep and dark, tucking her hair behind her ear, whispering "See you at the hotel." The vampire pressed a kiss to her pulse point, gave her a sarcastic glimpse at his vampire face, and sauntered away.

She seated herself at the bar, not ordering a drink, merely staring, a half-grin and bedroom eyes.

"I'm not interested." He grunted.

"I have yet to say a word. You sir, look like you need a  _vent_." Elena continued to stare, one arm propped against the table, biting her lip provocatively.

"I don't need anything from you. Please leave me alone."

Silence reigned, the man stiffening further with each second that passed.

"It's not cheating if you're no longer married." She stated. He finally looked at her, eyes filled with shadows of regret, longing, sadness.

"Come on, one night, no attachments. We'll never see each other again. It'll make you  _forget_." Elena slowly reached out, stroking his cheekbone with tenderness.

Leaning in, he placed a hand to the back of her neck, bringing her closer. "What if I just want to remember?"

She giggled at the contrary man, placing a soft kiss to his lips. Elena reached out, palm up. He nodded, taking her hand. Her fingers looped around his, feeling around the gaudy ring he wore.

Leading him out of the club was easy. Elena held on tightly, the two walking the one block to her hotel. Seeing him in better light made her smirk, little witches cackling inside her head. He was late twenties, depressed, drunk, and soon to be dead.

The hotel was of a middle-class sort, clean, but not expensive. No video cameras, which was a must. Elena dragged Alaric into the elevator, placing hot kisses on his neck.

Two pairs of drunk steps stumbled in, the sarcastic tenor of Damon's voice coupled with one unfamiliar.

Alaric face drained of all colour, eyes sobering, staring at the couple that had just entered-the vampire and his prey. She was petite, a college-aged girl, intoxicated and giggly.

But his gaze was not upon  _her_.

Whether Damon noticed or not, he continued to appear fully involved with the girl. The pair groaned and moaned, swapping spit and seeming to be having the time of their lives.

 _Beep. floor 5_. Elena led Alaric along the squishy, carpeted flooring. She tugged the man into the room next the vampire and his victim. Damon shot her a wink as he passed, something Alaric didn't fail to observe.

"You know that man?"

"We're… buddies, why?" She rummaged through the drawers, back turned.

"He's a murderer."

Elena whipped back to face him, crossbow in hand. Something made of glass shattered on the floor, a pungent smell rising from the remains.

A vervain bomb.

"Don't come in here, Damon." She whispered.

Elena released a flurry of arrows, Alaric quickly pinned to the wall by his own flesh. She'd hit only non-fatal spots, loving to prolong the game, the torture.

Dropping any vestige of a mask, she cooed, "Does the name Damon Salvatore ring a bell?"

"That  _vampire_  killed my wife." Alaric grunted, blood soaking his clothes as he squirmed.

"How sad, and now I'm going to kill you." Elena ran a dagger along his jawline, "Look at me when I'm speaking!"

His eyes flickered up, mouth twisting form a scowl into a gape.

"You look like her, so much. How old are you?"

Playing along, she grinned. "What do you mean?"

"You could be her daughter, Isobel Flemming."

"I'm fifteen, oh desperate drunkard." She giggled.

Alaric's face froze in alarm, a gasp echoing throughout the room. Impaled by a dagger, his eyes fogged over, body falling to the floor.

"Sweetie?" She danced over to him, picking his head up by the hair. "Why'd you have to be so difficult?"

"What was the noise?" Damon's blonde,  _oh so foolishly_ , opened the door that connected the two rooms.

The vampire blurred, holding his hand over her mouth. Coughing, Damon doubling over, groaning as the miasma of vervain hit his skin.

Giggly drunk screamed at the top of her lungs, only stopping when Elena shot an arrow through her heart. The blonde died instantly.

Somebody, a concerned, good person, was banging on the door, asking for signs of life. Working quickly, Elena sliced the girl's wrist and dripping the blood into the unconscious Damon's mouth.

His eyes shot open.

Sharp pain shot through her neck, pointy canines biting down hard. Damon gave no mercy, gripping her shoulder forceful enough to leave a bruise. A laugh bubbled out of her throat, snapping her vampire back to awareness.

Shooting over to the door, Damon said, "Nothing happened, you didn't hear anything. You will dispose of the bodies and claim credit for the murders if asked." The charm was back in full force, Damon grinned as the man stepped into the room. The vervain was rapidly dissipating, a blood-covered Elena having set to work opening the windows and cranking the fan.

"Are these hunters plentiful… or am I just lucky?"

"Na, your just  _special_." He bit his wrist, offering her healing.

"No thanks. I want to see what the ol' Grayson il say."

He smirked. "I like how you think."

* * *

The lamborghini pulled up in front of the grill, Elena's eyebrow raised, the girl giving her counterpart a  _look_.

"You said you would drop me off at the house."

"Don't get sour with me, pixie. You're the one that wanted to raise some hell."

Elena scrutinized Damon, who merely flashed his demon looks at her. She plunged a knife into his hand, snickering at his groan. Exiting the car, Elena darted into the grill.

"Elena! Your mom called me earlier. Why didn't you tell me you had a  _boyfriend_?" Caroline tugged the murderess over to the table. Bonnie leaning forward, interested.

"I don't." Elena said flatly.

The girls gasped as Damon entered the room, doors slamming, his smirk growing.

"Is that him?"

"Tod's a bit of a… drama queen. I'll admit."

"Tod?"

"Yup, Tod Folter, he has a brother who enjoys ripping heads from bodies." Elena stole Bonnie's iced tea, taking a sip and leaning back, biting her lip, eyes trailing over Damon's form. Caroline and Bonnie were quiet, humoring their rather insane friend.

He slid in next to her, "What have I told you about fake names?"

"To give them plentifully." She pecked him on the cheek, patting the hand she'd just daggered.

Damon gave her a dark leer, turning to Caroline. "Damon Salvatore, at your service." He kissed her hand, making her giggle. The blonde's eyebrows rose, she gave Elena a significant look—dimpling at the attention.

"Caroline Forbes."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He turned to Bonnie. "And you?"

"Bonnie Bennet." The girl's smile was bright; however, when his hand held hers, it extinguished, fear stiffening her form. She frowned, eyes wide, "I just remembered something I forgot to do."

Caroline scoffed, "What could you possibly—"

Bonnie was gone.

* * *

When Elena finally got to the house, after having snuck out, she wasn't surprised to meet her mother at the door.

"You're grounded, for a month." Miranda pointed to the stairs. "In your room, young lady."

Grayson stood in the centre of Elena's room—arms crossed—surrounded by stakes, vervain bombs, and archery supplies. His eyes were wide and burning, attempting to peer into the grotesque mangle that was his daughter's soul.

"How long have you known?"

"I've known about sex since I was nine, Dad."

He huffed, stepping forwards, "Don't be smart with me! How long have you known about vampires?"

"Two years." Elena bit out, pretending to give it up like it was something big, important.

"You made all of this equipment?"

"Most of it." She relaxed her shoulders—eyes on the floor—a submissive pose. "Look, you already knew about their existence! Why is this such a big deal?"

Grayson grabbed her chin, tugging Elena's head from side to side. "Are you being compelled? And are those bite marks on your  _neck_?"

Smacking his hand away, Elena's face and fists tightened. "Don't touch me."

"Vampires aren't nice creatures, Elena. They're soulless, bloodsucking beings, not to be trifled with." His voice shook, passionate emotion lacing Grayson's words.

"There are human murderers also,  _father_! And you don't torture them! What's so different?"

Grayson froze, face greying, and breathed, "You know about Augustine." He looming closer.

"Of course I do! You're not as careful with your research as you should be."

"Have you or have you not consorted with vampires?"

"I've not."

A harsh slap echoed through the room, Elena falling to the floor. Her eyes darkened as she looking up at Grayson, one hand holding her cheek.

"Those are vampire bites. Don't be foolish, child."

Elena kept her silence, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. She turned to the floor, shoulders shaking, whimpers escaping her throat.

"This isn't over, young lady!" Grayson stomped away, leaving Elena sobbing on the floor.

When his steps had finally retreated, the tears stopped, anger shivering through the girl's body in heavy waves.

She stood, slowly walking over to the mirror. A stubborn look was developing behind Grayson's eyes, a dangerous glint. The tools with which Elena could dispel the situation narrowing down. No amount of doe-eyed, burning looks could help her here, nor showing off her chest, nor her legs. Blackmail would do nothing but remove whatever opinion of her he had left. The options were lessening, and appearing more gruesome by the minute.

A red print was swelling her cheek, the imprint of five fingers raising the skin.

_You will rue the day you ever laid a hand on me._

* * *

Jeremy was up earlier than usual, longing on the living room couch. He worked away at a sketch, the muted TV playing pictures of gruesome news.

"Morning Jer."

His eyebrows furrowed, Jeremy placed the notebook aside. "Oh my gosh, Elena! What happened to your face." He hovered around her, eyes flickering over the swollen cheek, the abused neck.

"Grayson hit me."

"Dad? Why would Dad…"

"Because Jer, this is what happens when your child does something wrong. You slap 'em." Elena grinned, ignoring the twinge of pain, and headed over to the kitchen.

Jeremy seated himself at the island, working on his drawing, switching his gaze every few seconds to study his sister.

Her hands moved quick, preparing the coffee and pancakes, efficiently going through the motions of muscle memory.

"Morning." Miranda sat beside Jeremy, opening her laptop, typing away. He looked at her incredulously, eyes wide, disbelieving, his hand twitching. Catching his attention, Elena shook her head once, the teen shivering at the clenched jaw, focused eyes, and the silence he found there.

This was the first time he'd seen dissension in his family. The first time his sister had been hurt, the first time it had been ignored. Jeremy's bones grew cold, the boy desperately hoping for an intervention, a laugh, a hug.

Grayson strode into the room, kissing his wife on the cheek and pouring himself some coffee. Jeremy whipped his head back and forth between his two parents, waiting for some acknowledgement that never came.

His bit his lip, clenched his fits, and went to school—uttering not a word.

* * *

Elena's phone was silent, and the clock wasn't wrong.

Damon was late.

It wasn't the first time, but it had never before been more than an hour.

 _Bing_.

 **The Evil Care Bear** -Prty at graveyrd, u in?

Connections, another opportunity for spilled secrets and drunken deeds.

 **Soul Eater** -Sur, when?

 **The Evil Care Bear** -Now, b**ch! B there soon

The party was like all those before. Dead, bored eyes, girls sitting on the sidelines begging for attention, boys looking for a quickie, teens getting drunk to forget.

Elena was surrounded by her school "friends," Caroline leading the witch hunt for gossip, Matt Donovan's puppy dog blue eyes staring longingly at the psychopath.

"Hey Elena!" Jackson Hale sauntered over, a beer in hand, an arrogant grin on his lips.

"Can I help you?" She asked flatly.

"Yea! Can I talk to you for a sec?" He gestured his head towards the woods, raising an eyebrow.

With nothing to lose, Elena followed, watching the muscles on Jackson's back ripple through his muscle tee.

"Alright, we're out of sight, what's your deal?"

Jackson stared, eyes going up and down over her slight form. He grinned, "What if you are my deal?"

"Okay then, seeing as you're unable to communicate, I'll be heading back."

His large palm clasped around her wrist, Elena turning back to him, body stiff, eyes dark. "You will remove your hand from my person."

"Aw! Why you gotta be like that?" Jackson crushed her against a tree, grinding against the girl's tiny body.

Giving him a solid knee in the crotch, he stooped, groaning. Elena brought his wrist to her mouth biting hard, at which point he let go. Flurries of kicks and punches hit his body, until a well-aimed throat punch did the trick and Jackson fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Ugh," She spat, digging around in her purse. Elena couldn't return to the group like this, and unfortunately she couldn't kill Jackson without the possibility of being caught, too many people had seen them go off together.

Her back burned and bled, having been scraped against the tree. Her arms hurt, and large bruises would appear soon—where he'd held her in that violent, painful grip. Blood was leaking from her nose, her cheek aching—Jackson had managed to land a solid punch. Heat blazed through her body, jaw clenching, hands tightening to fists.

_You will rue the day you ever laid a hand on me._

She finally discovered the pen in her bag, unscrewing the cap and taking out a vial of blood—Enzo's, a gift after the two weeks they'd shared. Elena took a small sip before putting it back in the bag, and stomped back to the party, injuries healed.

"What did Jackson want?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Elena swished her tongue around in her mouth, still tasting blood. "You know what? I think I'll just call my parents."

"Okay, fine." Caroline shrugged.

* * *

"Get in." Grayson jerked his thumb towards the car. Miranda was there—an added bonus Elena hadn't expected. The car was dark, silent, Elena's parents stiff and angry.

"I tried to love you as my own, you know. And this is how you treat us?" Miranda bit out.

"Once Grayson physically assaulted me, all bets were off."

"Don't be dramatic, that level of misbehaving well deserved the consequences."

Elena froze, eyes darkening, fists clenching. Leaning back, she relaxed her body, a smirk stretching across her lips.

"It's lovely that you condone child abuse."

Clicking her seatbelt off, Elena surged forward, grabbing the steering wheel and giving it a harsh jerk to the side. The car broke through Wickery Bridge, plunging into the river. Water flooded the car, cold, and unfeeling. Lights flickered above, the engine whirring and gurgling. Miranda and Grayson were stuck behind airbags, flailing like dolphins experiencing seizures.

She wanted air, her lungs burnt, brain screamed, but she had to focus on keeping them inside. They had to die.

Elena succeeded.

The world went grey.

Terrible pressure pushed on her ribs, a rhythmic strangling. Lips were on hers, blowing air inside. Elena scissored up, choking, gurgling the water onto the dirt.

Her lungs ached with each breath she took, but she forced her eyes open. The hurt was rapidly dissipating—the vampire blood. Hands were on her shoulders, gentle, but with a rough texture, a voice whispering assurances—male.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

A teenage looked down at her, pushing the brown, dripping hair out of his hazel eyes, droplets of water running over his olive skin. "I just saved your life."

"I didn't need saving." She croaked. Her head whipped towards the river, eyes scanning.

"I'm sorry... they're dead."

"That was kinda the point." She stuck her hand out towards him, "Thanks, I guess."

"... You're welcome." Elena brought his hand up and bit hard, drawing blood. The skin sealed over within seconds. The teen gaped at her, eyebrows furrowed.

"Just as I thought, Stefan?"

He nodded.

"Damon says hello."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, again, I had trouble keeping the tense. I hope I got every instance of the unfitting present, but if I didn't—please give me a shout. Thanks!
> 
> Now, how'd y'all feel 'bout de Damon scenes? I tried to channel my inner sarcastic vampire, but felt only about 75% successful.
> 
> I'm pretty sure the text speak used for the Caroline-Elena conversation was crap, I may be a teenager, but I'm a stickler for full sentences and grammar. Anybody know a more realistic way of saying those lines? I'd be eternally grateful.


	4. Chapter 4

Stefan stared for the entirety of the phone call, eyes worried, brow furrowed, body stiff. He hung up and stooped, dilated eyes connecting with hers.

"How do you know Damon?"

She turned away, securing her attention to the light, the headlights peaking through. The car was buried, along with the dead ones that had once claimed to own her.

The siren of an ambulance approached, akin to the warning growl before a feline engaged in battle. Unnatural lights shone over the waters, red eerily glinting over the green surface, giving it a macabre, holiday feel.

"Elena? Elena sweetie?" Liz Forbes stepped beside her, wrapping an arm around the girl's soaked, shaking shoulders. Crocodile tears ran races down her face, her body trembling like a tree under heavy wind.

"They're dead." She stated. The sheriff's face hardened, her mind holding the ropes of control with white-knuckled fingers. Caroline's mother was close to breaking.

Elena chirped in hysterical laughter, watching the hubbub of noise and clamor—she had won.

* * *

Giggles, chirps, lilting music, feet tapping in rhythm. The zaffre blue palace broke through the grey clouds, resplendent and mighty. Protective pines wove around the grounds, bloodstone and azotic topaz lining the walkways, glimmering arrogantly. She arrived under a little gazebo made of sturdy red oak, its pillars covered in vibrant-green vines.

"Welcome, Ms. Gilbert." A man stood before her, his mouth full of sharp, shark-like teeth, a button nose in place between two large, yellow eyes, flecked with red. His eyebrows were non-existent, a swirl of caribbean-blue drawing attention to his forehead.

"Why thank you!" Elena took the offered hand, which dragged her down the left path.

Her steps were even, eyes twinkling as she took stock of the world around her. It was magnificent. She only hoped these creatures didn't wish to belong to the name "enemy."

"Not every half-blood is invited to the Unseelie court, young one. What  _have_  you done to deserve such an honour?"

Patting his shoulder, she linked their arms, tapping her fingers along the expensive fabric of his Armani suit.

"Just a little spot of murder." Giggling, her smile grew at the glee in his eyes.

"Planned?"

"Like a German."

They skipped down the path, arriving at the entrance. Two creatures stood guard, their livery a wonderful mix of topaz and emerald. Nodding to the guide, the guards allowed them entrance, removing their golden staffs from the doorway.

Underneath her feet was shimmering glass, appearing like delicately molded sugar, yet no sound was made, and it seemed quite sturdy. The room was tall and airy, the sun shining through the roof's stained glass windows, depicting royalty, battles, and massacres.

"Hello child." A man was seated on a throne of opal and gold, surrounded by a circle of lesser chairs, a gathering of seven creatures. His long blonde hair was twisted into elaborate braids, shining ribbons woven in. It should have appeared odd, compared to the designer clothes they were all attired in, but it merely seemed to  _fit_.

"Hello sir." Elena curtseyed, coming closer at the beckon of his finger. There was power here, in this castle and grounds, but mostly in the people. The King (because he couldn't be anything but) was radiating tendrils of purple and green, red eyes illuminated, ivory skin irradiating the room.

"Please, ask me whatever you'd like. Your eyes contain many questions." He smiled, showing his array of pointed teeth.

"You are… faery?"

"Fae. In your tongue I would be called Hans Überall. I am King of the Unseelie Court."

"How fascinating." Elena grinned. "What an honour it is to stand in your presence, sir."

"You're very welcome." He offered her his hand, "Would you care to dance?"

When her skin met his, the magic burned brightly, radiating protection and acceptance—mischief. Elena smiled as their feet moved in time. She'd never danced before, but her body knew the motions, as if Elena's brain was the only part of her that had forgotten.

It was lovely to dance with him, even if his eyes held a dangerous glint.

Elena was here for a reason. She was a half-blooded fae, but what did it mean?

Their feet tapped along the glass, glee lighting their faces. The king swung her around like a rag doll, grinning when she never missed a beat. They were finished much too soon, and he led her back to the seven.

"She's perfect." Said a red-nosed youth, pushing his blond hair behind his shoulders.

"That she is." The Unseelie King tucked a lock of mahogany behind Elena's ear, magic tingling the side of her face. "Would you agree to assist us, my dear? Mischief is the fae way, of that you're well aware."

"I would very much enjoy that, yes. Thank you."

He placed a kiss on her cheek, grinning. "No, no, thank you."

* * *

Inky black lashes fluttered, a tired moan stumbling from Elena's mouth as stretched.

She was fae.

Her rosy red lips curled up in a smile, a little giggle escaping. Elena had power now,  _no one_  could control her but those she chose to serve.

She was immortal.

Forever fun, forever mischief, forever murder—her dream come true.

It was the last week of school, a Monday, the "accident" had occurred on the Friday ten days before. The week had been sorrowful, relatives drifting in and out of her house like ghosts.

Would anyone remember her birthday?

Would anyone see that spring in her step. How ecstatic she was to be told that death was no longer a thing to be feared. No prison, no jail, no person could try to hold her.

She was free.

And it was time for this free bird to play an emotionally unstable teen who'd lost her parents.

Challenge accepted.

She chucked on sweat pants and a baggy sweater, tossing her hair into a messy bun. Taking out a makeup palette, Elena contoured purple and white upon her face.

In the mirror was a frail young girl, tired and depressed—she smiled, all teeth.

A slumped, sniffling figure descended the stairs, feet uncaring, stumbling where they may.

"Morning Elena," her aunt was attired oddly, hair coiled in a bun and her pantsuit freshly ironed. She appeared like a ten-year-old trying to walk in her mother's heels, not confident enough to pull it off. "Do you want me to make you some toast or something?"

"I'm good." Elena roped an arm around Jeremy's neck, kissing his cheek. He smelled of Grayson's aftershave, his shirt stained and pants ripped. "Hey Jer."

A small smile raised his lips, eyes still dead. "Hey."

"Bonnie called." Said Jenna, pouring Elena a cup of coffee, "She'll be here in five."

"Thanks."

"Alright, I better leave, big day today. Um… don't be bad." She wagged her finger menacingly.

"Bye Aunt Jenna." Elena raised Jeremy's hand, using it to wave.

The woman left, unaware of the fact that she only wore one earring. "Bye."

Sitting in silence, the Gilbert stared ahead, sides brushing, frozen in thought. Hours could've passed, and they'd still be in the same place, comforting each other with the presence of another living thing. A living being that understood.

Elena cared about Jeremy. He was her little brother, after all.

He was the only person she gave a flying fish about.

She didn't regret killing Miranda and Grayson. They'd crossed a line. They deserved what they got. She was immortal, but that didn't mean she didn't fear loss of life.

Jeremy was hers to protect, and the only thing she regretted was how hard this might affect him.

A horn sounded.

"You gonna walk?"

Jeremy nodded slowly, getting stuck in the motion, moving as if to a beat.

"Alright, love you." Elena gave her brother a tight hug—grabbed her backpack—and disappeared out the front door. The car idled in the driveway. Bonnie's concerned face watched Elena's slow journey to the "dreaded" vehicle.

"Hey Bon." Elena smiled tightly, reaching for her seatbelt.

"Elena, how are you doing?"

"I don't think I even know the answer to that question."

"You don't have to." Said Bonnie resolutely. "But you do have to tell me what happened to Jackson."

"Ugh!" Elena facepalmed, "That was weeks ago!"

Bonnie dimpled, her clear brown skin lighting up. "Weeks of anxious anticipation and grief, come on!" Her eyebrows danced. "Imagine how pissed Caroline will be if I know and she doesn't."

Throwing her head back, Elena laughed so hard the other girl flinched.

"He was drunk and tried to take advantage."

"Wait, did  _you_  give him all those injuries?"

The orphan giggled, "Yes."

"Girl, remind me not to mess with you."

Elena reached over, patting Bonnie's hand. She jumped at the touch, and the car swerved. A blood curdling scream was Elena's response. The brunette loved any excuse to mess with people.

"Bonnie?" The psychopath breathed, coughing to mask her chuckles.

"It was dark, wet, you couldn't get out." Brown knuckles went white, hands clutching at the steering wheel.

Elena hid a smile. "You saw me drown?"

The witch slowly nodded, eyes fixed on the road, jaw tight.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

She wasn't.

* * *

A blank numbness encased Jeremy's body. His throat was half-choked, eyes stinging, yet the dam wouldn't break. He should scream, cry, punch his fists against the wall, but there was  _nothing_. His brain was stuffed with cottony fog, senses impaired, as if the boy was wandering through a sandstorm.

Memories danced through his brain, their mocking faces upturned.

Dad hitting Elena.

Mom pretending it didn't happen.

And then they died.

Wisps of basic thought became tiny. It was with much struggle that he managed to grasp one—he was supposed to go school.

How long had it been since he'd moved?

"Hello Jeremy."

He looked away from the unpowered TV. A blonde woman stood in the entrance, numerous bins and boxes at her feet, taped and labeled.

"Nodding towards her, he rose, preparing to bolt.

"How was school?"

Mawkish eyes blinked at her, appearing unanchored in the current time and space.

"Jeremy." Jenna sighed, wrapped her arms around the boy. His hands remained by his sides, frozen, like a car whose only capability was idling.

Stepping back, she held his head in her hands, brushing over the cheekbones. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, leaving to continue unpacking.

Jeremy shuffled down the hall, nearly knocking into Elena, whose bright eyes merely watched, the brunette patting his shoulder as she passed. He envied the strength she possessed, how unshaken, unhurt the girl was able to appear.

"See you later Jer."

* * *

A trick of light was scratching Elena's peripheral vision, showing which way to turn. Her training was usually done in the forests, high in the trees, where the fae felt most comfortable. Her guide, Malcolm, was a delightful character. He was waiting for her, having already ascended their habitual training pine.

"It isn't compulsion, my dear. You must remember that. We can never make anyone do something they don't  _on some level_  wish to do."

Kicking her feet, Elena grinned, "That would explain how I'm still alive."

"Oh, do tell." He leaned forwards, swinging his Italian leather shoes, coattails whipping in the wind. Malcolm was always brushed and polished, but was habitually attired in something  _odd_. Time passed different for fae, he had told her. When you were immortal it all started to blend together.

"I've been on a few killing sprees before, with vampires. But I always wondered why they hadn't at least  _tried_  to off me."

"Not very many would have the strength. It's part of our… charm; you could say. A human can only incapacitate us using indirect means, and a supernatural creature would need extreme willpower to do it face to face. We can't actually die, none of the fae folk can. However, if a rod of iron is placed in your heart, you won't awaken until it's been removed."

"Fascinating." her eyes shone, "Is this less potent for half-breeds?"

"Not at all. You've actually more advantages than a 'pureblood.' Because of your human half, you possess the ability to lie and…" He leaned forwards, "To change bodies."

Elena stared, tapping a tune upon her jean-clad leg.

"Now, enough talk, you'll need plenty of training before any of the real fun can begin."

"What are we starting with?"

"Practical uses, my dear."

* * *

Elena danced into Target, smoothed out her pink dress' ruffles, and began her hunt.

She was a pretty little thing, kindly chatting up the customer's with ease, blonde hair plaited into two braids, blue eyes sharp and shining.

"Oh, that shade of purple looks amazing on you!"

"Thanks… Sadie! Say, have you ever wanted to leave your job and have absolutely no responsibilities?"

The blonde's eyebrows went up, "Who hasn't?"

"I know, right?" She stepped forward, placing her hand on the girl's arm. Elena's face lit, dimpling, "Come with me."

Sadie grinned, tossing a precautionary look around. "Where?"

"Anywhere you want."

Elena's guide appeared, black hair slicked to his head like a snake skin, attired in a leather jacket and ripped jeans.

"She's too happy, pick someone else."

"Malcolm." Elena scrunched her face in distaste. "Fine," she signaled Sadie to leave. "Off with your head, you grunger!"

The fae grinned, pupils dilating as Sadie walked away. "Don't be insulting, child. You need to have the ability to tame  _anyone_ , not just pretty blondes."

* * *

The Mystic Grill was near empty. It was much too early for anyone to be awake—seven o'clock on a Saturday. However, Elena's brain had possessed the stupid idea of waking her at the crack of dawn, and she wanted to perpetuate the depressed, emotionally unstable vibe. Elena sat at the bar, staring into her 7 Up, eyebrows drawn together, biting her lip.

"That face is much too pretty to make such an expression." A handsome brunet smirked at her, signaling the bartender.

"Lorenzo!" Elena hopped up, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "You're here." Her expression appeared lit by a thousand candles, feet swinging, eyes twinkling.

"I thought we'd rejoice together," he leaned forwards, grinning, "Not every day such a delightful death occurs."

She pushed his shoulder playfully. "You were just too lazy to do it yourself."

"I thought it more your kill than mine."

Elena nodded, "Now nothing can keep us apart." Her lashes fluttered, doing the pretend swoon.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Enzo's chest.

"Hey, do you wanna go for a drive?" Elena leaned forwards, placing her hand on his.

"You don't need to glamour me, luv."

Her lips upturned, "Look who's informed."

Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand, pulling the girl out the door.

Enzo parked the dust-covered corvette on a back road. The two seemed surrounded by green, tall pines keeping watch over their conversation. He turned, meeting Elena's big "innocent" eyes.

She propped her head up on her hand. "How'd you know?"

"I met a bloke a couple'a years back, wouldn't shut up about all the different creatures and what they could do. Always wore his clothing inside out, crazy bugger."

"Lorenzo?"

He sighed. "Elena."

"Why are you here?"

Fast steps shuffled through the dirt, a vampire appearing on Elena's side of the car.

"Stefan." Elena's quiet voice seemed to echo through the forest, a soft growl.

"Elena, you need to get out of the car, right now!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Lorenzo?"

"Yes gorgeous?"

"Why are you here?"

He turned, dark eyes tracing the lines of her face. Enzo opened his mouth to speak, and stopped, body tensing.

Fast steps shuffled through the dirt, a vampire appearing on Elena's side of the car.

"Stefan." Elena's voice quietly echoed through the forest, menacingly—but Stefan didn't notice.

Her "saviour" appeared to be under heavy stress, brow pulled nearly to his nose, pupils frantically examining the environment.

"Elena, you need to get out of the car, right now!"

Stefan grabbed Elena's hand, whisking her out of the vehicle. He growled as he pushed her behind. Crouching low, he brought out his vampire face, to which Enzo couldn't help but do the same.

"I think you've misjudged the situation, mate."

"On my count, run." Stefan whispered.

A glowing ivory hand clasped around his olive wrist, Stefan's vampire face twisting back into normality. He gasped, the power, the overwhelming want for blood, increasing tenfold.

Enzo watched the proceedings, curious.

Grasping tighter, Elena turned the shaken vampire around. Her eyes glimmered red, chin raised, the elegant curve of her neck beautiful—yet he couldn't imagine ever disgracing it with his fangs.

"Oh Stefan, what makes you think this  _man_  poses any danger?"

"He's uh—he's a vampire."

"Broody little Steffy, were you worried for me?" Her hands slid up, tangling together behind his neck. Elena pulled him down, foreheads meeting, their mouths inches apart. Brown eyes glazed over. Elena's glamour knotted his brain, strands of cotton obscuring basic thought.

"Don't be." She breathed.

"Damon was going to kill you." Stefan slurred his words together, legs barely keeping him from tumbling to the ground.

Enzo perked up, coming to stand beside Elena. "And where is my murderous old friend?"

Stefan's jaw tightened, "I had to keep Katherine safe."

"Bloody hell." Enzo spat, ripping off a branch. Elena stepped to the side, the makeshift stake flying through the air, burying into Stefan's stomach.

"Ugh!" Groaned the consumer of woodland animals, eyes sobering.

"It's always so much more fun when it gets messy." Commented Elena, happily skipping over the car to fetch her purse. She pulled out a small box, unlocking a collection of knives. The serrated blade gleamed in her hand, a malevolent grin spreading across her face.

She loved the power possessed in these moments.  _No one_  could stand in Elena's way when torture was an option. Her button nose wrinkled at the weakness Stefan had due to his diet. It was outrageous and idiotic.

"A lovely opportunity for new experiences. Isn't it, luv?"

"Absolutely."

Stefan made a break for it, pulling the branch from his stomach and bolting. A knife flew through the air, slicing his spine in two. He fell to the ground, temporarily paralysed, desperately trying and failing to reach the weapon embedded in his lower back.

"You're insane." He breathed, struggling, squirming in mud and pine needles.

Elena's sadistic grin came into view. "I've been told that once or twice."

A strangled moan escaped Stefan's throat; another knife plunged into his back. Blood splattered out, soaking the white shirt obscenely.

"Who's Katherine, Steffy?" A serrated knife slowly dragged over his neck, little pinpricks of blood coming to the surface.

Stefan kept his mouth shut, teeth grinding. It took every bit of self-possession he had to keep from crying out, to stop the screams when they drove knives into his wrists, nailing them to the ground. He writhed, only opening his wounds further.

"Come on, mate. Just give it up."

"Will you let me go if I tell you who Katherine is?"

Enzo and Elena exchanged a glance.

"Of course." Said the girl, nodding her head resolutely.

"She was the vampire that changed Damon and I, back in 1864. Physically you're—you're her double."

"I'm a doppelgänger." Elena's nose wrinkled, fists clenching.

An inner turmoil raced through the girl's veins. Betrayal, surely King Überall had known? Elena was  _special_ , the only one of her kind. That another wore her face was not acceptable. She sneered, looking down the pathetic man she'd had to learn this information from.

Expectant eyes looked to his captors, begging release.

"Alright mate, that doesn't sound like what she wanted to hear, now was it?"

The snap of bones echoed through the forest, Stefan fully falling to the ground, neck twisted unnaturally.

"Where to next?" Enzo slowly approached the girl, removing the bloody knife from her grasp and cleaning it on the corpse's clothing.

"The Salvatore House."

Once again was Elena self-possessed, holding her head  _just so_ , hips swaying. Lips curved into a gleeful grin.

It was time for blood to  _pour_.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Zach answered the door, creaking it open halfway, right hand hidden—a weapon at the ready.

"Elena," A fake smile lifted his lips, brown eyes wary, "How can I help you?"

"May I come in?" Blink, blink, "It's a matter of the utmost importance."

"Unfortunately I'm very busy right now, can it wait?"

"No, it really can't." A crocodile tear dragged down Elena's face, shoulders slumped, biting her lip. "It's about the vampires, sir."

Zach sighed, "Alright, come in."

The hall was ill lit, the large room cavernous and echoing with the Zach shuffling about. He fumbled, cleaning up the living room's messy coffee table.

"What is it you need, Elena?"

"Please, Damon has been stalking me, he's—he's hurt me!" Elena's hand curled around her neck, sobbing full out.

Zach frowned, glancing at the tapestry. "That's not possible."

It was all she needed.

Elena reached under her dress, a glint of insanity in her eyes. There was a holster around her thigh, from which she whipped out a dagger, brandishing it madly. The fae sliced his throat, blood pouring from the wound, like squirts of gusher candies—it flowed thickly, the deep red Elena enjoyed so much. Zach's body fell to the floor, saucer plate eyes watching the mad girl dance about. Gurgling filled the room, his hands grasping, banging upon the wooden floor, searching for aid not to be found.

He died.

A man appeared beside the girl, a sarcastic dimple denting his right cheek. "That wasn't very nice, now was it?"

Elena patted his cheek, squealing from the adrenaline high. "But it sure was fun!"

She grabbed his hand, tugging, face shining. Bubbling laughter and childlike glee, "Come on!"

The vervain cell was the same, a new, hardier lock shining brightly, keeping the door secure.

Standing on her tiptoes, Elena peeked through the bars.

"Day! You're alive!"

Bleary blue eyes stared up at her, skin pasty, his clothes covered in dirt. "Elena?"

The door scraped open, a fae and a vampire entering.

"Enzo?" Damon scraped his hands along the floor, pushing himself against the wall, eyes wide, breaths fast.

"Look what we have here! It's my old pal Damon. Still alive and well. How'd do you reckon that to be true?"

"It must be his dashing good looks." Nodded Elena happily. "His friendship skills are very subpar."

A slick of sweat coated Damon's skin, a cocky smirk raising his lips. "Look at you two." he cooed, "It's the dream team, all worked up over a bit of abandonment."

Enzo's eyes darkened. Stepping forwards, he brandished a stake, smiling at Damon's ill concealed reaction.

"Uncommon to popular belief, violence is only the answer when I do it. Come on Enzo! It was self-preservation!"

Enzo dragged Damon up by the collar, pressing the stake to his chest.

"You left me to be tortured—day in day out—for fifty years." His voice was low and gravely, akin to a primal growl.

"Why don't you just go ahead, stake me! We all know I deserve it."

Placing her hand over Enzo's, Elena shook her head. He stepped to the side, and she took his place.

"Damon," she sung, "You didn't tell me about  _Kathy_."

A pained smirk spread over his lips. "Stefan."

"We just left him, mate. He's still alive, for now."

Blue eyes slowly looked between the captors, Elena still dancing with glee, Enzo frozen in fury. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I left you to die," he gestured to Enzo, "And I came here to get my ex-girlfriend (who happens to look exactly like Elena) out of a tomb."

"Oh, fun! Lorenzo! Now we have to keep him alive."

"Elena." He sighed, tightening his hands around the stake.

"Come on, don't lie to yourself. If you were given the chance to escape fifty years ago there's no way you would've hesitated." Elena dimpled, ivory skin shining.

Enzo carefully looked between the two, struggling to think—the fae's charm binding the happiness of himself to her.

"Whatever you want, luv."

Elena's happiness soared, the wings of joy brushing her two vampires. They both stiffened, eyes closing. The feeling was similar to that of drugs, endorphins releasing as they soaked up her boisterous magic.

The two vampires followed her beckoning finger, Enzo scowling as he helped Damon up.

o0o0o0o0o0o

_It's dark, and the trees loom overhead, haughty and spiteful as they watch the proceedings. The full moon gazes over the thicket, fire casting eerie shadows through the branches, gnarled fingers searching for someone to strangle._

_Three circles blaze brightly, magic fire, keeping its place. It's itching to be let out, nipping at the air ravenously, but held under control._

_The wielder stands off to the side, brown eyes glinting with power, raven hair flowing in the wind—the strands tangling together in a fight for dominance._

_Beside her is the most important figure in this scene, a confident smirk upon his lips, dimples, curls of blond. His stance shows him to be a leader—shoulders back, feet planted, effortless grace and command in his movements._

" _Klaus, the moon is almost at its peak." Says the witch. In her hand is a glossy white stone, which she tosses onto the altar._

_The flames reach higher and brighter. There are three people, one inside each ring. Richard Lockwood is in the first, knuckles white, hoarse screams scraping from his throat. His large body quivers, writhing about, bones breaking to an imperceptible beat._

_In the next is Elena, attempting to bolt. She's too fast, inhuman, and her eyes blacken to a demonic shade, purple veins streaming down her face, canines elongated. She bounces off, annoyed growls and hisses echoing through the forest._

_Another Elena is in the pen after, although she and the demon aren't dressed the same. Her body is immobile, eyes staring frozen into the starry sky. She's unconscious._

_The fire goes down in Mayor Lockwood's circle, the man managing to stand. He tries to sprint for the forest's edge. Klaus bolts over, violently punching his hand into Richard's chest and pulling out a dripping heart. The blond man speeds back to the altar, squeezing the organ, its juices falling onto the rock, feeding the flames._

" _You can't escape me." States the man, signaling for the cage to recede from its place around demon Elena. Elena attempts a sprint; however, she is stopped and tugged to where the witch stands. Klaus snaps her neck, grinning._

" _It's time for the doppelgänger." The witch tells him, and the two grin at each other, excited children._

_A full moon shines maliciously overhead._

_Klaus lifts up Elena's body (the unconscious one), bridal style, and stands her beside the altar. He strokes her face, an unfitting, tender brush of fingers. Breaking the skin of her neck, he biting down hard. The monster sucks until Elena's face goes pallid and chalky, until she's dead._

_Her body drops to the ground._

_Elena's limbs splay out to the sides, a macabre butterfly seeking flight. A broken little corpse. The two holes in her neck are crusting over with blood, the colour a stark contrast against her ghostly pallor._

"Jeremy, I made lunch."

Knuckles rapped against the door, Jeremy's eyes snapping open. Sweat soaked his tee shirt and boxers, his hands shook, his cheek bleeding from where he'd bitten through.

Standing, the zombie traipsed through the wasteland—piles of dirty clothing—in search of something clean  _enough_. A quick glance at the mirror showed him everything, black shadows scraped beneath his eyes, dilated, darting eyes, chest heaving quick.

_I couldn't save her._

o0o0o0o0o

When Grams had first told Bonnie, the girl had been in denial.

"You're crazy." She'd said, but what she meant was—it all makes sense now.

"Child, I know you don't believe that. Have you been getting the visions?"

"What, what do you mean?" I saw Elena die.

"Don't be an idiot, dear. Come," Grams beckoned with her finger, and Bonnie followed, legs trembling.

There in the attic, a place where Bonnie has never been allowed. She was told it was unsafe, full of demons (Grams) and structurally unstable (Dad). Candles are on every surface, two heavy laden bookshelves against a wall, numerous carvings etched into the floorboards. Conflicting scents fill the air, incense, sage, basil, smoke, and pot (to name a few).

"You - Grams, what is this?"

"It's high time you became more learned in the magic arts. A supernatural storm is coming, and it might well be necessary for you to protect yourself and those you love."

Bonnie gaped. As always Grams was blunt, pointing down at the cushion opposite her own.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

Grams hesitated, glancing up from her rapid grimoire flipping. "Your mother asked me to keep you from this life, if possible. It was a stupid promise of me to make. I can see that now."

Sorrow dragged at Bonnie's face, slumping. How could her mom ever want to keep this from her?

What possible repercussions could this have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was so hoping to be able to slip in the line "You're a wizard, Harry!" But it didn't fit anywhere, lol. Anyways, please read and review. How do you feel about the characters so far? Which ones do you like? Which scenes do you like? Etc...
> 
> I'm having a hard time not hating everything I write. It always feels choppy and flat, no matter how many times I go back to smooth stuff over. #Writerproblems
> 
> *Loud sigh


	6. When Elena Visits a Witch

   

Smile, don't speak.

Breathe, don't gasp.

Laugh, don't groan.

Pretend to be alright. Pretend that you don't care, pretend your thoughts don't go to the noose, the pills, the jump.

"So, you got any plans?"

Of course he doesn't have any plans. His friends never liked him enough to put up with the mess he's become. They can certainly find someone else to play videogames with. The only other person Jeremy ever hung out with was Elena.

"No." He took a sip of coffee, staring fixedly at the water dripping from the tap. It was fascinating, those very droplets, when amassed, could kill someone, take their life just as they had his parents.

His father never apologized for hitting Elena.

Was Grayson now haunted by his past deeds?

Aunt Jenna played awkwardly with her blonde ponytail. "Well, I'll be back before supper time." Her face was pained, she probably felt guilty leaving him alone. She did that every time, act as though his misanthropic behavior was all her fault.

Two weeks and Elena had yet to return. Fourteen days ago she'd disappeared, a scrawled note left behind. Jenna had said nothing, her stress lines getting deeper, voice higher and pitchier.

The burden had yet to go away. An odd shock still hunched his shoulders, opened that painful hole in his stomach. Sometimes he lost himself, staring at a wall for hours on end. What could have been? What would be? How was life to continue?

_Hysterical, bubbling laughter, frantic eyes, begging for aid, flaxen hair, dripping with blood._

_The boy writhed, his heavily bitten lips trembling, trying to pull away from the approaching knife._

_"Hello darling," Elena danced around the incapacitated teen, a bejeweled dagger in each hand._

_"Please—please just let me go." Tears leaked from his eyes._

_A man stepped before the captive, "How about no?" His words lilted with a British accent._

_"What did I ever do to you?" He gasps, Elena slowly marking lines of blood along his naked torso._

_"It's not what you did, per say, it's what you would've done." Another man stepped forward, his accent American, eyes blue and twinkling, a sarcastic smirk alighting his face._

_"He looks so pathetic. " Elena drew the letter E on his chest, "The little rapist." She wagged her finger, giggling loudly. Her voice was like charmed bells, whose sound draw the two men in, faces lighting every time the girl expressed her joy_.

The visions didn't stop, sometimes vague, sometimes mere perceptions impossible to categorize. Jeremy only saw a few, all gory, turning his stomach. Surely they were just nightmares; he must be in shock. His parents were dead, after all. Sometimes he'd walk down the hallway and seem to catch a whiff of his mother's perfume, or he'd open the wrong cupboard, coming face to face with his father's belongings.

He sat at his writing desk, hand moving on its own accord. The room was dark, the sun almost entirely descended. Pencil scratches stroked along a sketchbook, forming an unknown face. A handsome man was holding a wine glass, his dimples peeking out, hair crazy curly.

Niklaus Mikaelson was written at the bottom, in curlicue penmanship Jeremy hadn't used since third grade.

He scowled, placing it in the bottom drawer with all the others.

The doorbell rang, an unfamiliar sound. Jeremy stomped down the stairs, trying to blink away the gore. He avoided the strewn items around every corner, almost tripping over his own backpack.

A brown haired man stood at the door, olive skin glinting in the sun, a garish ring on his hand. His brow was heavy laden, mouth twisted, eyes determined.

"Who are you?" Jeremy asked, snarky.

"Stefan Salvatore, may I come in?"

"No."

The door slammed shut.

o0o0o0o0o

"You must focus, child!"

"I am focusing!" Bonnie bit out, scowling. They'd been doing this for hours. It was impossibly frustrating to be told you're a witch, yet have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to show for it.

"Alright, okay, sit down again." Grams demonstrated again, effortlessly lighting the room's candles. She smirked, that stupid, stupid, self-satisfied smirk.

"Remember what I told you. You need to imagine, believe that it's going to happen—otherwise you'll never achieve a thing." Sheila said, for most likely the hundredth time.

"Yea, okay." Bonnie stared at the purple candle placed in front of her, face screwing up, hands clenched. "I believe in fairies, I do, I do!" She giggled, stopping at Grams' glare. Grimacing, she tried again.

_Light, light, light you stupid thing!_

"Yes!" Bonnie threw her hands in the air, engaging in very uncoordinated dance moves. It was about flippin' time.

"Good job. I thought you were merely constipated."

Bonnie gives Grams the look, not impressed. Her Grams was always nagging, sarcastic, and just a bit drunk.

The old woman chortled, pulling out a gigantic book and thumping it on the table. Dust sprung up, Bonnie hacking a cough. Grams did so love her dramatic moments.

"I expect you to spend a good many hours studying this grimoire. Of course, any questions will be brought to me." Grams turned to leave.

Her chance was slipping away.

"Wait," Bonnie tugged her grandmother back to the seat. "Um… have you ever… seen things?"

"Visions, you mean?" She sat back down, her eyes suspicious; they always were. "You mean through physical contact?"

"Yes!" Bonnie said, wincing at the loud exclamation. "When I touched Elena's hand I saw - I saw her drowning."

Grams' face clouded, wrinkles prominent. She took out a cigarette. "Child, you need to be careful around her, anyone that gives you visions is dangerous."

Bonnie bit her lip, staring down at her tightly clasped hands. "What does it mean?"

"It means they're supernatural, and usually has something to do with secrets. The spirits show you these things for a reason, take heed." Grams gestured with her smoke.

"When I shook Damon's hand he felt like, like death."

Sheila scrutinized her granddaughter's face, raising an eyebrow. "He's a vampire." She pointed to a leather bound book on the shelf. "Everything you need to know about them is there."

Bonnie's eyes blazed, hands shaking as she carefully removed the book and set it on the table. She cautiously turned the pages, biting her lip, eyebrows high.

Elena was dating a vampire? How could she?

Bonnie needed to know how to protect the ones she loved.

o0o0o0o0o

"Luv, you mind telling me where we're going?"

Elena was grinning, the petite girl driving a compelled for van.

"Crazy!" She said happily, foot locked down on the gas.

Enzo sat back, unable to keep from closing his eyes, enjoying the joy emanating from her body, like the comfort of a warm wood stove.

"No, but in terms of body count, how insane do you think we're talking?" Damon leaned forward from the backseat, smirking.

Elena's eyes twinkled, "We're going to find a witch."

"I happen to know one or two." He bragged. Enzo rolled his eyes.

"As do I!" She grinned. Damon was so easy to bug, no matter how much of a macho, killer-vampire mask he put on.

Damon frowned, sitting back.

"Looks like she doesn't trust your witches, mate." Enzo chuckled.

"Go to hell." He snarled, twisting into his vampire face.

"Don't be so testy, Day." Elena commanded, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. They had to know that they were hers, that if crossed, their murder would occur, no regrets.

Fae have specific rules, Malcolm had explained. They were happy creatures, fun to be around, but their wishes had to be honoured, or lives would be lost.

The Unseelie Court was one of the most powerful groups on the planet.

Their code was law.

A fae suddenly appeared in the passenger seat, Enzo popping beside Damon. "Malcolm!" Elena rejoiced, letting go of the steering wheel to give him a squeeze. He always understood.

The two vampires tensed, waiting for the car to crash.

It didn't.

Elena continued to grin, shifting to four-wheel drive as they reached a large hill.

"Hello, my dear. Lovely weather out, isn't it?" Plastic bracelets jingled against each other, his fingers braiding a long strand of hair.

"What the hell are you?" Damon snarked, staring into topaz eyes. Malcolm didn't appear frightening, not many people attired in bell bottoms and tie dye can. Then again, these vampires had yet to see a pissed off fae.

"Now that's not very nice at all." Elena said, meeting his eyes through the mirror. The brown orbs grew dark, dangerous, the smile leaving her lips. Damon barely contained his restlessness, very rarely did he meet someone with all the power - someone who left him with no way out.

"Damon Salvatore," he held out his hand.

Malcolm reached out, as if to take it, then his hands flashed up, twisting Damon's head violently to the side. "Vampires are all so arrogant." Damon's body crashed to the floor.

"Yet they make such excellent killing buddies!" Elena's eyes flashed red, teeth momentarily sharpening, holding Malcolm's gaze.

"Ah yes, you and your," he paused, breaking away to look at Enzo, "friends."

Malcolm grinned, showing off his all-canine smile. "Why are you searching for a witch?"

Her lips grew thin, "It does not concern you."

"It most certainly does. The king asked me to look after you. Don't let me be negligent in my duties." His glamour grew, attempting to tangle, encase her.

Elena went silent, fingers dancing over the steering wheel. A major debate flitted through her mind; however, this information wasn't so dire as to require secrecy. Hours passed, she may have decided, but Elena was most definitely not going to let him always be the alpha dog.

Biting her lip, she finally said, "I just want to know who my parents are."

"A paternity test?" Enzo interrupted.

"Turn here." Malcolm commanded, the van merging from the freeway.

"No, a rubber duck, of course a paternity test." Damon said, expression twisted in pain as he rubbed his neck.

"Oh my, someone almost woke up on the other side." Grinned the fae. He wiggled his eyebrows at Damon, before grabbing a piece of paper from the dash and scribbling an address upon it.

He shoved it at Elena, "Tell Sasha that the Malcolm Mason requests her services."

The fae disappeared.

o0o0o0o0o

"Which state is this?" Enzo asked, looking up from his paperback.

"What you don't recognize Illinois when you see it?"

"I think that's more your hinderance, you seem completely inept at loyalty."

"Oh burn!" Damon slapped his hand over his heart, "You wound me."

"Boys," Elena warned. "Control yourselves."

"What if I don't want to-"

A grotesque snap echoed through the car.

"Eventually he's going to retaliate."

"Eventually." Enzo agreed. "But that is neither here nor there, and he might be dead before then."

"Oh murderous Lorenzo, are you asking permission?" She gasped sarcastically.

His face tightened, "You know I am, luv."

She dimpled, patting his hand, her glamour at full blast. "You can choose whether or not you wish to take his life, darling. I'm not much opposed. Now stay here."

Elena pulled the van in front of a bookstore, the wooden sign "Ye Old Book Shop" swinging in the wind.

The store reeked of sage, basil, and vinegar, books piled high in all corners, arranged in no particular order.

"Can I help you?" A woman appeared from the back, the beaded "door" jingling.

"Yea, hi, I'm looking for Sasha?" Elena gave a nervous half-smile, eyes flickering over the goods, stance uncomfortable.

"I am her," the redheaded woman slid her eyes over Elena's form, wary,

"Malcolm Mason told me, to tell you, that he requests your services."

Sasha's back went ramrod straight. "Come." She beckoned, striding into the backroom.

The smell was even stronger here, the room dark, boxes upon boxes of magical tomes lining the walls.

"What is it that you seek?"

"My ancestry." Elena said, eyes gleaming.

"How far back?"

"However far you can take it."

The woman smirked, opening a trunk and taking out a variety of ingredients. There were five in total, four plants, one liquid (some sort of oil). She mashed them together with a mortar and pestle, then held out her hand.

Elena put her hand on Sasha's, eyes dark and vigilant. Taking a handful of the mixture, the witch rubbed it upon the fae's palm. Sasha unsheathed a knife, waiting for Elena to nod. The girl remained impassive while being cut, watching blood mix with herbs.

Sasha took out a paper and a pen, and began chanting.

The pen uprighted itself, words looping onto the page.

A mist covered the witch's eyes, the air weighing down with each sentence of lilting Latin.

Sasha stopped, finally, giving the paper a glance over before handing it to Elena.

"How do I know you won't spill any of those names?" Asked the poker face girl.

The woman's back straightened, lips thinning. "I would never be so stupid as to betray a fae."

"Good!" Elena's face lit, the girl's feet barely brushing the ground as she skipped back to the car, paper folded up in her bag.

Damon was still unconscious, Enzo impatient. She needed to set them free soon. They were antsy, caged animals, and her glamour couldn't function forever. Elena couldn't expect their loyalty unless they were given a bit of freedom.

Rephrase that, that they thought they were free.

"Everything alright, luv?"

She beamed at him, her first vampire. Leaning over the seat, Elena gave him a kiss on the cheek, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone.

"I am completely well."

The car burst to life, Damon's eyelids beginning to flutter.

"Where to next?"

She bit her lip, "I have a certain uncle that needs a visit."

o0o0o0o0o

**If you liked it, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

A morose, frozen Jeremy entered the Mystic Grill, basic hygiene being all he possessed. His eyes wandered around listlessly, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. 

He sat at an empty booth, lips thin, damp hair spiked in every which way. 

Jenna had confronted him, a drawn, worried face, an awkward stance. She didn’t know the difference between a parent and tyrant, and this caused her odd actions. Jenna worked so hard not to be a bad guardian—talking around punishments, avoiding harsh topics, and asking instead of telling—it was counterproductive. But she did her best, and he respected that. 

Jeremy had been hiding for two months since the death, and Jenna was fed up. His aunt gave him a long lecture, then pushed him into the bathroom, demanding to be obeyed. 

“Hey Jer.” Vicki Donovan greeted, sliding a menu before the boy. 

“Hey.” Blank brown eyes flicked away from the pretty girl, fingers restlessly tapping on the table. 

She huffed, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just a Coke would be fine.” 

Vicki smiled seductively, sauntering away, hips swinging back and forth. 

Jeremy shook his head, trying to draw attention back to the menu. Vicki was one of those girls that loved the power trip, using their bodies as a way to satisfy their stupid insecurities. She was dating Tyler Lockwood, and  _ most definitely _ not interested in little Jeremy Gilbert. 

A ringtone sounded, causing the whipping of heads to his direction. He grimaced, fishing the phone from his pocket and flipping it open. 

“What?” 

“Hey Jer!” The bubbly voice of Elena said. A low murmuring was in the background—men. 

“Elena?”

“Yup,” she popped the p, “How you doing, little brother?” 

He sighed, “When are you coming back?” 

The door behind him jingled, a petite, African-American girl entering. 

“You worried for me?” 

“Elena, Jenna’s going out of her mind. Come on, I need you to come back and take the attention off my back.” 

Bonnie cocked her head to the side, turning slowly and mouthing, “Is that Elena?” 

Jeremy nodded shortly, breaking eye contact. 

“I’m on my way back.” Chuckling was going on the background, Elena laughing, shouting something intelligible.  

Bonnie slipped into the seat across from him. 

“Dude, how far away are you?” 

Elena giggled, the tinkling of bells, “We just crossed the border between Ohio and Indiana, see you in about eight hours!”

The girl across from him was making odd gestures, trying to indicate for him to pass the phone.

“Wait, Elena?”

“Yes, oh sweet brother?”

“Bonnie wants to talk to you.”

“Oh! You’re talking to  _ Bonnie _ now?” She said, lacing the sentence with innuendo.

He huffed, “Elena, I’m at the grill, okay? I’m going to hand you over now.” 

His sister burst out into full laughter, the sound leaking from the telephone. 

Bonnie eagerly grabbed the device, “Elena, you have to come back! Everyone’s a mess without you, girl.” 

They chatted for a couple more minutes, meaningless gossip, before Bonnie finally handed the phone back to an impatient Jeremy. 

“Here you go.” Their hands brushed, Bonnie going stock-still, eyes wide. 

She went to stand, but Jeremy grabbed her hand again, pulling the girl back down. 

“What did you see?” He demanded.

“What makes you think—?”

“Because I saw something too.” 

She placed a hand over their intertwined ones, trying to free herself. He wasn’t

squeezing hard, just enough to keep her in place.

“Look Jer, I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He gave a growl, dropped the possessed extremity, and crossed his arms.

She ran away, nearly stumbling over her own feet.

o0o0o0o0o

Elena adored being around other fae. The way their magic, their auras, roped together was soothing, understanding, and oh so mischievous. Yet sometimes, it was a pain in the ass. 

Her knuckles were white, clenched around the steering wheel as the van rode along the freeway. Enzo had snapped Damon’s neck again, and was definitely  _ bored _ .

“Oh look, another car, and another, and another. Elena, must we keep going? I’m positively itching to rip a throat out.” 

Elena’s lips thinned, knuckles going whiter. “We’re almost there.”

He didn’t understand how close he was getting to  _ the line.  _

“Don’t be that way, luv. I’m sure—” 

SNAP! 

“Malcolm!” 

The handsome fae ran a comb through his greased locks, grinning like a loon. 

“Come on, Fledgling, you were quite near doing it yourself.” His hands squeaked along leather pants, only making him smile wider. Malcolm seemed unbothered by the uncomfortable aspects of era attire, always appearing at ease. 

She bared her pointed teeth, eyes flashing red. “He’s my vampire.” 

“ _ One _ of your vampires.” He corrected, giving a pointed glance to the blue-eyed Salvatore currently nursing yet another broken neck. Malcolm straightened, sticking his nose in the air.  “The King informs you that you’re needed back at Mystic Falls.” 

Elena’s face tightened. “Does he kn—?”

“Yes.” 

She sighed, loudly, obnoxiously, “Fine.” Elena yanked the steering wheel to the side, the van doing a sudden u-turn, horns sounding from everywhere. The fae drove over the grass median, grinning all the while. 

“Whatever would you do if the police pulled you over?”

“Dude, that’s what the vampires are for.” 

The fae burst into laughter, that if ever captured, would surely light the sun. 

o0o0o0o0o

The front door slammed, a voice echoing through the halls. 

“HONEY, I’M HOME!” Elena sang, plopping her suitcase in the entryway. 

Feet thundered down the stairwell, an irate, blonde woman appearing, eyes blazing. 

Jenna pointed at Elena, “What the heck do you think you were doing, missy! I’ve been worried sick.” The parent aura faded away, Jenna’s expression drooping.

“Ugh, come here.” She enveloped the girl in a tight hug, Elena froze, face turning white. This reaction was… unexpected. Grayson and Miranda had put up the front of loving parents, doing everything they were supposed to do—baseball games, hugs, Sunday lunches—yet it had never been real. 

Surely this was an act. Yes, it had to be. 

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Jenna. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was so stupid, and reckless—I know. Please forgive me.” Elena switched on the cute, doe eyes big and sorrowful. Her mask was on once again. 

Jenna bit her lip, trying to fight the glamour. “Now listen here! I’m going to punish you… I’m going to ground you! Yup, that sounds very parent-like, does that sound okay?” Her voice trailed off at the end, mouse-like and uncertain. 

“Absolutely.” Elena nodded frantically, using all her power to keep from laughing. 

“Ugh!” Jenna hugged her niece again, patting the brown head awkwardly. 

“Elena?” Jeremy thumped down the stairs, as quick as could be. 

“Jer!” She held her arms out, and they embraced. Jeremy sighed, holding back the tears. Her spirit was always comforting, warm and pleasant. 

“I missed you.” He whispered, wishing Jenna would go away. 

“As I did you. Next time I go on an emotional state-wide trip, you’ll come along, kay?” 

He fought the illogically anger, wanting to yell that she should’ve taken him  _ this time _ . But Elena was always making unpredictable, snap-second decisions; it was just who she was. Jeremy couldn’t begrudge her for it. 

“Kay.”   

O0o0o0o0o

Elena flounced up the porch steps, expression cheerful, eyes watchful. 

The green door creaked open, the heavy scent incense flooding outside. 

“I need a witch.” 

Sheila Bennett scowled, “Child, go find someone else to help with your vampires.” 

Elena’s hands went to her hips, “I  _ need _ a witch.” Power radiated from her figure, skin becoming ivory white, eyes shining an electric red. People always underestimated her, the adorable Elena Gilbert. She was to be petted and cooed at, and very few seemed to understand her intelligence, not unless violence was involved.  

A wrinkled hand confidently leaned against the doorframe, and Sheila smirked, “Fae, now that changes things.” 

“Will you please let me in?” Elena dimpled, face innocent and pretty. 

The old woman gestured inside, “The living room’s this way.” 

Light steps danced across the floor, a bright fae swinging her head about. 

Sheila remained immune to the charm, face twisted up into a scowl. “What do you want?”

Elena turned to her, apple cheeks making their appearance. “You’re helping me now?” 

“That depends,  _ what do you want _ ?” 

The girl held her hands up, nonthreatening. “Hey, no need to get snippy. I need you to do just the ittiest bittiest—”

Sheila made snapping motions with her fingers.

Elena smirked, “I want you to open the tomb.”

Instead of an immediate no, Sheila scrutinized, eyes dragging over the fae. Elena’s body language was relaxed, legs falling over the side of the couch, head propped up by her hand. 

“I want a full oath.”

“For what?” The girl’s eyes twinkled.

“For you to protect my Bonnie with your life, for as long as her natural life extends.” 

Sparks slithered along Elena’s skin, razor-sharp teeth biting her lip. “That’s a tall order.” 

“I most likely will die.” Said Sheila seriously. 

“True, true,” fingers danced a rhythm on her jeans. This was a difficult decision. While Elena liked Bonnie—the girl was a rather nice pet—being her bodyguard would require quite a bit of effort—and it also closed any doors where the witch could be used as a bargaining chip. “I have a different proposition.” 

“Yes?”

“Help me find Katerina Petrova, and make me a ring.” 

Sheila raised an eyebrow, “That’s all you ask?” 

“It’s a particularly, powerful ring, and it requires a Bennett witch.” Elena dimpled, “As you know, they don’t exist in abundance.”

An unimpressed witch stared down the fae. 

Elena dug around in her bag, revealing a large, dusty grimoire. It slammed down on the table, a bright pink bookmark sticking out the side. The witch gasped. 

“How did you find this?” Sheila reverently slid her hand over the cover. 

“I’m fae. Now come on, flip to the page.” 

Sheila did as asked. “A ring that repels iron?” 

“Yup, it simply disappears or is sent away once I get within a few metres.” 

A hand tapped upon a wrinkled face. “Why would Emily Bennett design a spell to help the fae?”  

“Because we’re absolutely amazing! Now can you do it alone, or must you call in backup?” 

“I can; however, I most likely will die in the making.” 

Elena waved the concerns away, “I’m sure you’re willing to do such a thing. I’ve heard that some parents actually care about their children, however strange that might sound.” 

A glint of sympathy appeared in Sheila’s eyes, yet she held herself back, merely frowning. “The entire Bennett line.” She demanded, holding her hand out. 

The fae smirked, “The entire Bennett line.” Their hands met, a blast of power shaking the house. 

o0o0o0o

Elena sauntered up to the door of the boarding house, jean-clad hips swaying.

She knocked on the door, a courtesy, nothing else. 

CREAK! 

Stefan’s face appeared, broody, stressed. 

“Hello, my dear.” The girl waltzed in, patronizingly patting Stefan’s cheek. 

“Elena, you can’t just—” His voice boomed.

“Yet I so can.” She said, eyes twinkling, words sarcastic and mean. 

Stefan grimaced, pain brought to mind. Katherine’s face, the love he’d thought was felt, the wounds this girl had caused him. 

_ Tender touches, pleasure, heat, then shooting pain, blood leaking from his neck, feeding the hungry demon.  _

_ “Don’t scream.” She’d said, eyes dilated, blood-red lips curved up in a sadistic smirk. Katherine had been so beautiful, so deadly.  _

“Hellloooo?” A snow-white hand waved before his face, Elena possessing an annoyed expression. 

He pursed his lips, back in the present. “What do you want?” 

She tapped a long nail against her cheek, skin gleaming. “Well, I guess you can stay. I’m really looking for Damon.” Her tone struck a cord, vicious, as if he was scum beneath her boots.

“He’s around here somewhere.” 

Elena chuckled, “Well that much is obvious.” 

“What have I done to offend you?” 

Her eyebrows raised, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! You’ve tortured me for no good reason, manipulated me, and now treat me like dirt. I need to know, why?” 

She sauntered forward, face growing pinched, pointy, and pompous. “You want to know why I treat you the way I do?”

“Yes!”

Their bodies were almost touching. Her heart thumped away, calm and certain, just like how she appeared on the outside.  _ Katherine.  _

“Because I can.” She said, straight and even. 

Stefan swallowed, stomach twisting in on itself. The vampire hated what he was, bile raising at the thought, but he had a reason for all his foolish, sinful actions, albeat a weak one. How could Elena be so cruel? What had happened for her to become this way? 

“Hello, oh great and magical one.” Damon appeared beside the stairs, smirking and nonchalant. 

“Day!” She lit up like a thousand torches, skin glowing bright, eyes shining scarlet. Elena bounced over to Damon, throwing her arms around his neck. “Come on, come on.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him to a couch. 

“Now, what I’m about to tell you is pretty intense, so I’ve gotta ask that you refrain from violence or mean language.” 

“Yes Elena, Stefan’s adopted.” Said the poker face master.

She burst out into helpless giggles, dropping down to the floor and rolling about. 

“No silly, Katherine’s not in the tomb.” 

The room went dead. Emotion drew back from Damon’s face.

“Elena, that isn’t funny.” Said Stefan, oddly defensive. 

“No, no isn’t at all.” She shook her head back and forth, suddenly morose. “Look!” 

Elena dug around in her big, purple-sequined bag, pulling out a handful of photos. 

The pale Damon reached out, taking a few while Stefan seated himself beside his brother. There was a couple dozen, all of a girl with Elena’s face, yet they were clearly not from this era. Big hair, colourful clothing, then thick eyeliner, black galore. 

“No, no!” Damon shook his head furiously, hands reaching up and tugging at his raven-locks, “She’s in the tomb! She’s in the tomb like she always was!”

Elena grimaced at the breakdown, giving Stefan an unimpressed look and mouthing “He’s your brother.” 

The little fae sneaked out, leaving the eater of animals to deal was an angry, violent mess. 

o0o0o0o0o

**Lol, do you know what’s a great movie? Maleficent! Just watched it again (in French this time) and just so AMAZING. Fairies for life, dude.**

**Thank you so much to Savily and MariWollsch for their amazing comments! Lol, yes, psychopaths are so much fun to write, and yes there’ll be more chappies to come!**

**If you liked, please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** **One of the things I’ve had to fully come to terms with is that this is AU. I can do whatever I want. And as the “author” I am choosing to slim down the characters. Anyone who won’t do anything for my plot won’t show up. This is a novel, not a TV show, and too many character makes everything much too confusing and stressful.**

_ Boot-clad feet propped up on the coffee, hands behind his head, Grayson dozed off after a long work day. Miranda had prepared a delicious supper, a hearty stew with plenty of flavour and dumplings besides. He’d given her a kiss on the cheek.  _ __

__ _ “Dad?” A six-year-old Elena stood in the doorway, wringing her little hands. Miranda was gone, having taken Jeremy to his soccer game. Grayson never talked much about his work day, so it was difficult to get a read on his emotional state.  _

__ _ An eye peeked open, “What?”  _

__ _ The pigtailed one chanced a couple of steps forward, brown eyes large and careful. “What’s a vampeer?”  _

__ _ Grayson scissored up, back going ramrod straight. Fumbling out of his chair, he kneeled before her, hands on her shoulders. “Where did you hear that word?” He spat, saliva hitting her face.  _

__ _ Elena flinched at the loud noise, but grounded herself, looking at him evenly. “Uncle John was joking about staying in at night, because the vampeers wanted to suck my blood. Are they like Satan? He’s a bad angel, pastor McMillan said so.”  _

__ _ “Sweetie,” fingers began to dig into her flesh, “Vampires, and you will make no more mention of them. Listen to Uncle John.”  _

__ _ “But what are—” _

__ _ “LISTEN TO ME!” He boomed, Elena wincing at the noise, the nails digging into her skin, wrinkling the puffed sleeves of her dress.  _

__ _ “Daddy, you’re hurting me.” She whimpered, lip jutting out, shaking. She should’ve been more careful, should’ve just stayed quiet.   _

__ _ Grayson didn’t seem to hear, tightening his grip further, her head banged back and forth as he shook her, yelling “LISTEN!”  _

__ _ “I understand, Daddy. I understand.” Elena shouted, anything to make it stop.  _

Sheets twisted around her body, sweat streaming over her forehead, blood-red lips open in a silent scream. She’d never see those blue eyes darken in anger, sharp, and ready to strike, nor the clenched, strong fists, or the way his nose flared out, his chest heaved. 

Grayson Gilbert was dead.

Elena’s face twisted into a grimace, getting ready on auto-pilot. The little girl she’d once been had adapted out of necessity, and she’d become colder, smarter. No adult was to be trusted with information. That fact was most obvious. 

Her hands shook as she slipped on her jeans, eyes flickering to the mirror. 

She was beautiful, immortal. There was nothing to fear. 

Elena sauntered down the stairs, game face on. Pans banged together in the kitchen, cupboards slamming. 

“Hey kid, you want some toast?” Jenna, frazzled and stressed, bustled around the kitchen, trying hard, yet getting nothing accomplished. 

“Coffee!” She bounced over, smacking a loud kiss on Jeremy’s cheek. “I’m good.”

Jer grinned, “She’s seen your cooking skills.” 

Jenna gave her nephew a light slap upside the head. “I’m trying to be adult, okay? Now am I missing anything? You got all your school crap?”

“You’re doing fine, Aunt Jenna.” Elena said, twisting her face into sincerity. Jenna was. She was doing infinitely better than expected, and had yet to require to be “put down” (like the guardians before her). 

“Y’all are so sweet!” The blonde woman melted, pulling in the teens for a squeeze, their heads knocking together. 

“Ugh, I’ve been hugged!” Elena fell to the floor, tongue lolled out, eyes shut. 

“Ah! Whatever will I do?” Jeremy smirked, grabbing the glass of water. Drip, drip, the droplets rolled over her face. 

“Ooh, I’ve risen,” She chanted, “And there’s hell to pay!” The fae tackled her brother, threatening wet willies. Screeches of laughter occurred, Elena having wrapped her legs around him like a spider monkey, refusing to be shaken.  

“Um, break it up. Yea, no violence!” Jenna pulled them apart, “Hugs not drugs!” 

Grinning faces looked to her.

“Um,” she waved her finger, “Use protection. Now off with you!”

“Aunt Jenna!” Jeremy groaned.

The two scampered out, scooping up their backpacks. 

o0o0o0o0o

“I heard that she ran off pregnant!” Whispered Amy to her friend. 

“No way!” Marie said, “I heard from David that…”

Elena sauntered through the halls, chin high, crimped hair bouncing. That was not the worst of the whispers she had already heard, her ears may not be pointy, but they certainly had good reception.

“Elena!” Bonnie grinned widely, her smile not meeting her eyes. The fae hooked her arm with the girls, and on the outside they appeared to be confidants. 

“Hey darling,” Elena smacked at a kiss on her friend’s cheek, “How was your summer?” 

“I spent most of it with my Grams,” Bonnie admitted, manicured nails playing with the strap of her backpack, “But what about you? You just disappeared!”

Elena grinned, “Just traveling the States, you know.” She stuck her tongue out to the side, eyes squinting in concentration as her slim fingers fumbled with the lock.

“And Jenna was totally cool with this?” 

“Pfft, I didn’t ask.” 

Bonnie gave a little gasp, “What… who were you with?” 

“Tod, remember?” Elena giggled a bit. Damon was barely tolerant of her nicknames. 

“Your boyfriend?”

Elena hummed noncommittally, “So, get drunk with Grams yet?” 

“No.” Bonnie berated, “I’ve been studying a lot.” 

Elena bumped hips with her friend, “Whatcha studying?” 

The girl pulled them to a stop. 

“Wow, who’s the new guy?” 

The two stared into the office. 

Stefan, dang it all. Her own personal murder police. And Bonnie’s change of subject hadn’t been subtle at all. She most definitely would be interrogated later. 

Elena brightened, saying mischievously “He probably has horrible acne! Oh! And greasy hair! Oh! and dragon breath!” 

“Elena!” Bonnie scolded, “He might hear you!”

“Pfft!” The fae waved away the concern. 

“Thank you,” Said the leather-clad man, turning and securing his sunglasses back over his eyes. 

Elena squealed, “Steffy!” and bounced over to give him a hug. 

The vampire stiffened, jaw tightening, “Hey Elena.” 

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, “Who’s this?” Her voice laced with just a bit of innuendo. 

Elena dimpled, “This is Dusang Murray, Tod’s bro. Dewy, this is Bonbon.” 

Stefan put on a charming smile, “Nice to meet you, Bonnie. My name’s actually Stefan.” 

“Aw man! You’re spoiling it!” Elena warned, eyes flashing. 

“Nice to meet you, Stefan.” Bonnie stuck her hand into Stefan’s outstretched one, before wrenching it away, breathing fast. 

“I’ve gotta go.” The witch disappeared into the mob of students. 

Elena beamed at the vampire, “You’re so frightening, all the girls run in fear!” 

He didn’t react, “Hmm, only sometimes.” An infuriatingly charming smile lit his face.

“Dude, what’s your issue?” 

Stefan just smiled, “Ever think Elena, that maybe you’re the one with the issues?” His eyes gleamed, and he swaggered out of the room, attracted attention with his well-fitting jeans and leather jacket. 

A fae became annoyed. 

Stefan didn’t seem to know who he was dealing with. Perhaps he merely assumed that acting like Damon would make her like him, but no, that’s not what Elena wanted. 

Brown eyes flashed red. 

This meant war. 

Hmm… what  _ would _ the Ripper be like? 

o0o0o0o0o0o

Elena skipped to her seat, giggling as she slid in, exactly the same time as the bell buzzed. Her sequined backpack hit the floor, loud wedges clogging a rhythm on the linoleum.  

Mr. Tanner got up from his desk, sneering, “This unit we’ll be covering what events and dates led up to the cold war. Get out your books and begin reading chapter one.” 

The fae did as asked, stares prickling the back of her neck. Bonnie was on her left, face pinched, eyes occasionally glancing over, arms crossed over her middle, as if to keep the emotions inside. On her right was Caroline, waving obnoxiously, attempting to catch her attention. Elena had seen Jackson upon walking in, his stupid, stupid face, his pleading, questioning eyes being seated a couple of rows back. 

He’d soon die.

“Miss. Gilbert, what is the year of Pearl Harbor’s bombing?” 

Elena beamed, “1944!”

This was wrong, of course, but graduating high school wasn’t very important to an immortal fae. 

Mr. Tanner grinned, sitting back on his desk, “I was willing to grant you leniency last year, but I won’t be allowing your excuses anymore, Elena.” 

She merely crossed her arms, giving him a flat look. Perhaps he too would soon “fall down” dead. 

“Ms. Bennet?” Bonnie’s head shot up, “When was the Cuban Missile Crisis?” 

She smiled as cute as possible, “Well, you know, sometime in the 70’s, ish.” 

Elena snorted a laugh. 

“Very funny; however, cute becomes dumb in an instance, Ms. Bennett.” 

Bonnie’s face lost its humour. 

“1962,” 

Mr. Tanner raised an eyebrow, “What?” 

Stefan smirked, “Pearl Harbor was bombed in 1962.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bennett.” 

The class burst into laughter. 

Bonnie made a face, staring down at her desk. 

Tapping her fingers on her chin, Elena screwed up her face thoughtfully. What did the Bennett witch know?

o0o0o0o

“Oi! Gilbert!” 

Jeremy grimaced, tugging his hood tighter around his face. He’d only wanted to get through this day alone—practicing the art of silence and glares—but Jackson seemed to have other plans. 

The brick-wall of a boy stood before him, attempting to loom for intimidation. “What’s up with your sister?” A hand slammed behind Jeremy’s back, the lockers vibrating. 

“Elena? Oh Jackson, you don’t have to use excuses. Nothing can stand in the way of our love!” Jeremy grinned, watching the jock’s face turn red, then purple. 

“Why you little!” Jackson pulled back a fist, chest heaving with rage. 

_ It is nighttime, yet the moon is bright and full in the sky. He’s in the forest beside Fells Church, the party spot, beer bottles, cigarette butts, and clothing littering the ground. There’s a bonfire not too far off, if Jeremy crooks his head to the side and squints. _

_ A large paw slaps against skin, Jackson, eyes blazing, keeps hold of a brunette’s arm— Elena.  _

_ Jeremy’s face twists with wrath, and he runs forward, only to slide, transparent, through the couple’s bodies. It’s a cold, slimy feeling, like he got all naked and danced in winter’s first frost and fog.  _

_ “You will remove your hand from my person.” Elena says levelly, the stiff body language immediately clueing Jeremy in. She’s about to explode. It’s just like the Stuffed Animal Incident of 03.  _

_ “Aw! Why you gotta be like that?” The large boy backs her into a corner, eyes half-lidded, nose bright red, yet still retaining his strength.  _

“Mr. Gilbert, are you well? Mr. Gilbert?” Jeremy snapped back into awareness, slamming his head into a metal locker in an attempt to get away from the too-close face of Mrs. Parkinson. 

“Yea, no, I’m good.” 

Jackson stood off to the side, arms crossed, lip stuck out like a child. The teacher’s bulbous eyes, (enhanced by her strong prescription) carefully scrutinize the situation, before she turned back to the perpetrator.

“Attacking a student on the first day, Mr. Hale! What a fine young man you’re turning out to be.” Mrs. Parkinson practically dragged the lineman to the principal's office, students giggling as they watched.  

o0o0o0o0o

“Elena?”

“Hmm?” 

“Can I ask you a super strange question?”

She bounced up, glancing away from the road to connect twinkling eyes with his. “Those are the best kind.”

“Did Jackson Hale ever… attack you?”

Elena snapped back into seriousness, “How did you come by that information?” 

“I saw it.” 

“You weren’t at the party.” She said slowly, knuckles turning white. 

The car pulled into the driveway, a scheming fae on autopilot. 

“Thanks for the ride, Elena. Bye!” Jeremy scrambled out of the car, confused, stumbling over his own feet. 

It must’ve been a fluke. There was absolutely no way Jeremy was seeing the things he had. Perhaps he was still in shock from the accident? This was so stupid. Jeremy Gilbert, psychic?

Yet it continued to haunt him. Dark shadows sliding before the teen, giving Jeremy a taste of what was to come. 

“I got the job!” Jenna said, doing a nerdy little dance while trying to flip a pancake. It ended up landing halfway over the side. 

“That’s so great, Aunt Jenna.” Elena beamed, going to hug her aunt. 

“You told us yesterday.” Jeremy said, with a look of “duh.”

“Jer, my interview was today.” 

“No, I clearly remembering you talking about how pimply the boss’ face was.” 

Elena and Jenna continued to frown, looking at Jeremy as if he was the idiot. 

How are they not… wait, no that can’t be… 

Jeremy tangled his fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots. 

“I’m insane, sorry.” Standing up, he bolted for the stairs. 

“But what about supper?” 

“Not hungry!” He barked.  

O0o0o0o

“Oh homicidal vampires!” Elena sang out, voice lilting. 

“Elena.” Damon croaked, grimacing, then chucking back another glass of bourbon. His shirt was frayed, unbuttoned, and his pants hung low on his hips. 

She danced closer, frowning, “Where’s Enzo?”

“How the hell should I know?” Damon pretended to look in his sleeve, “Nope not there!” 

Elena struck a superwoman pose, eyebrows raised. “A blood run?”

He chuckled, “Yea, might be needing one of those myself sometime. How about that bubbly blonde who trails you around like a puppy.” His eyes darkened, eyebrows waggling. 

She waved away the concern, “If you want to bring down the wrath of the vampire council that’s your prerogative. However, you might want to remember that you are… mortal.” 

Her hand subtly crept inside her jacket, where a weapon was sheathed on the belt she wore. What fun it was, how fascinating to torture someone whose skin regenerated.

Flesh knitting together, blood oozing out, snaking down skin. 

“Hello Elena.” Stefan strode in, plopping down on the couch. 

She grinned, taking her fingers out of her pink cloth coat. “Hello Ripper!” Sitting down beside him, Elena planted a kiss on his cheek. 

He continued to smirk, gulping down a bottle of Damon’s alcohol. 

“Look at you, little brother, trying to act all normal. Hey, do you ever wonder if all the furry woodland creature won’t someday band together to get revenge?” 

“Ugh Damon, resentment doesn’t become you.” Stefan said, his voice tanged aristocratically. It was the perfect thing to say in order to get under Damon’s skin, and he obviously knew it, his grin stretched wide.   

Elena burst into giggles, before taking out the knife. Gleaming eyes reverently observed their treasure.  

Damon bolted forwards, slamming Stefan against a bookcase, his hand clenched tightly around his brother’s neck. 

“Ooh ooh!” Elena clapped, dancing around like a small child. 

Stefan broke into crazy laughter, “Just kill me! Kill me!” He taunted.

Damon’s mouth went tight, cold blue eyes keeping sharp to their target, even when the fae got close. 

“Of with his head!” She whispered madly. 

“Ugh!” Damon released him, “Not everything’s a f**king game, Elena.” 

And he sped away. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what’s got him so irritable.” 

Stefan raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, besides the obvious, bye Ripper!” She grinned, flouncing out of the room. 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Jer stood before the Bennett house, hands shoved in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. Bonnie spent more time at her Grams than her father's, so here he was, awkwardly gathering up his courage. It was time for a confrontation. She'd been squeaky and secretive lately, rather like himself, actually.

He would finally get some answers.

He'd seen it.

Not to say that his visions could be summoned (or at least, not yet), or that they even made sense, but Jeremy had seen himself standing right where he was now, and Bonnie, confiding in whispering tones that she was a witch.

The psychic screwed his face into fake confidence, before slamming three knocks upon the door.

Sheila Bennett answered, hair mussed, black pajamas frumpy, and with pores reeking of alcohol.

"What?" She asked, her face appearing ashen and sickly.

"I'm, uh…" he scratched his neck, "Just looking for Bonnie."

"Huh, the child got a boy." She went to dismiss him, then seemed to do a double take, eyes sharpening. "You've got magic inside you."

His teeth ground together, "No I don't. Is Bonnie here?"

"No, but you may as well wait inside." Sheila gestured him in.

The words were laced with command, and Jeremy had no doubts of resistance's futility. He pulled his hood closer around his face, stepping forward.

Heavy cigarette smoke burned his nostrils, and Jeremy grimaced at the ashen taste on his tongue.

Sheila's shuffles were slow and loud, scraping against the dust-covered floorboards.

"You're a seer." She said blatantly, lowering herself onto an armchair and lighting a smoke.

Jeremy brushed some miscellaneous crumbs from the couch, sitting down cautiously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't get smart with me, boy. I can see it in your eyes, confusing, isn't it?"

"Mrs. Bennett—"

"Sheila."

"Sheila, I don't understand. No offense, but I always just thought you were crazy."

She threw her head back, a laugh of hate echoing throughout the room. "Most people do. You would think your sister was, if you'd seen her true colours."

Jeremy's eyes blazed, fists clenching as he stood. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Why you didn't know? Have you not seen your Elena rip people apart for fun with her little fae hands?" Sheila smirked, breathing smoke in the boy's face.

Hesitating, Jeremy's eyes flicked to the slide, his teeth grinding. "I… I… What happened to her?"

"She's always been like this. Yet she would've come into her full heritage at age sixteen. Her presence may have been what activated your gift."

"Not to say that I believe you, but what exactly does being a fae mean? And activate my gift?"

"Ah, the sweet innocence of youth." She took another drag, "Your sister is an immortal creature who takes great pleasure in causing problems for others, which can include murder. Some gifts, such as those of psychics, lower witches, and shifters are only activated through the presence of high level magics."

Jeremy sighed, through the window the street was filled with colourful backpacks bobbing about, high pitched laughter and celebration.

What did this mean? It was… he couldn't disregard the fact that most of his visions seemed to come true, yet…

Had Elena killed people?

Surely he shouldn't even be counting it as one of his options… If it was true, how did he feel about it?

His stomach twisted into knots, nausea rising in his throat.

Jeremy went pale, rushing out of the house. Sheila smirked at him.

"Jer?" Bonnie asked, walking up the driveway, her blue bag swung over one shoulder.

He stopped dead. "Do you know where Elena is?"

"She was going to hang out with Tod." The girl said slowly, "What's this about?"

"I… bye!"

"Jer!" She yelled.

The boy grabbed his skateboard, flying down the street.

O0o0o0o

A fist rose, thumping hard against a wood door.

"Well, hullo." A good-looking blue-eyed man leaned against the doorframe, eyes bleary, smirking.

"Is Elena here?" Jeremy asked, rather frantically.

He needed to speak with her, otherwise spontaneous combustion could very well occur. Was Sheila Bennett correct? He shouldn't be thinking like this. Yet the thought whirled through his brain. Jeremy hadn't confided in anyone about his… supernatural side either.

"Well that depends…" The man grinned, "Who's asking?"

"Jeremy… Gilbert." Jer tried to look around Damon, "Is she here?"

"Jer!" Elena appeared from around a corner, galloping over to her brother and giving him a squeeze.

"Elena, we need to talk."

Her expression faded away into passivity, eyes wary. "Alright."

Jeremy made a gesture towards the vampire, "Alone."

Damon held his hands up in surrender, "I can see where I'm not wanted." He gave a mad chuckle, sauntering away.

Elena, silent, grabbed Jeremy's hand, pulling him far away from the house. She was so beautiful, and in an objective way, Jeremy could understand why all the boys go crazy for her. She was pretty, fun, and sweet.

"I went to visit Bonnie today." He stated.

Elena raised a brow.

"Instead Sheila told me some stuff." Brown eyes darkened as he looked at her, unable to fight the suspicion.

"Hm, how about we sit down, sweetie." Keeping hold of his hand, she drug him onto a bench. "She was telling the truth."

"You're a fae?"

"Yes."

"And all those people I saw you kill?"

"Oh Jer." She sighed, her eyes seeming to bore into Jeremy's very soul. "I'm sorry that it hurts you, but I can't stop."

"What?" He pulled his hand from hers, backing up a few steps. "Did you know about the things I saw?"

"No, but it explains your recent behavior. Jer…"

"I can't believe this, Elena!" He stepped closer, whispering, "How many people have you killed?"

She tried to remain poker-faced, but a twinkle appeared in her eye. "You don't understand how it feels!"

"No, no I don't, Elena! How could you…" Jeremy trailed off, his voice beginning to tremble, near a sob, "How could you take human life? How could you take human life with no regrets at all except if you'll be caught?"

"I'm gonna confide in you, Jer. No human has ever known me as much as you, and I've always been… afraid to show what I'm really like inside."

 _Please stay,_  she seemed to whisper, but Jer couldn't be sure.

She closed her eyes, a sudden light shining over her skin, turning it bright and white as snow.

Her eyes were red.

A blue swirl curled over her forehead, and when she opened her mouth to speak, her teeth were all points.

She was still beautiful.

"This is me. I can't just stop, Jer. It's an actual part of my DNA."

He opens his mouth, then shuts it, then opens it again. "You're so pretty." Jer cleared his throat, "I mean, I'm sorry, but I just need to…"

Elena let him go.

O0o0o0o

A burning fire coursed through Elena's veins, and she clenched her fists, wishing desperately to rip flesh from bone. Jer didn't understand her, didn't want her.

The logical part of her brain told her he merely needed time; however, the irrational wrath continued to fight for control. Killing always brought a rush of adrenaline, helping her recover from any slight. Most of the time Elena was able to retain her head, knowing she still needed her good reputation in Mystic Falls, if only to protect those she… to protect Jer.

Sauntering back to the Salvatore house, Elena kept her head high and back straight. Only the glint in her eye hinted to her current mood. Perhaps some fun would assuage the fire.

"Trouble in paradise?" Damon smirked, tossing down another glass of Bourbon.

"He'll come around eventually." She returned his smile, looking much more a woman than the usual giddy child. Oh how she ached for a bloodbath.

"Pfft, I've hated my brother for over a century. I can personally attest to the lasting of sibling despisement." His smile turned (almost goofy), eyes trying to goad her.

Elena stepped closer, then raised an eyebrow, "How long has it been since you've left the house?"

"Pfft, I fed on some stoners earlier." He waggled his eyebrows. "It explains the munchies."

"Did you really?" Her eyes trailed over his body, "How… boring." Damon almost lurched for her, his body twitched, but he seemed to think better of it. Elena's mood began to lift.

Chuckles sounded from the staircase, Stefan grinned, walking over to the pair.

"You hear that, brother? You're getting boring."

Damon scoffed, "As if you could do much better, bunnyman."

"Yea, come on Stefan, prove it!" Elena flounced over to him, ivory skin lightening, red eyes twinkling mockingly.

The fae and the vampire engaged in a staring contest, only broken as Damon ripped open a blood bag.

Stefan's face momentarily shifted, but he managed to regain control. "Have fun you two!"

Then he was gone.

Elena giggled. Stefan was so easy to tease, and the struggle was just a delight to push into action.

What would it take for him to truly lose it?

O0o0o0o0o

"Elena! Oh my gosh, we need to hang out like super soon!" Caroline bounded over to Elena's locker.

Bonnie's lips thinned, and she looked away nonchalantly.

"Caroline!" Elena hissed.

"Oh I'm so sorry." Blue eyes gleamed, examining her "friend.""How about a girl's night! Just us three, pampering and boy-talk all the way."

Elena and Bonnie exchanged a look, or really, Elena quelled Bonnie into silence.

"That sounds like a lot of fun, when were you—?"

"Do y'all have any plans for Friday night?" Caroline raised her eyebrows, lips pouted beseechingly.

"Nope, nothing. How about you Bon?"

"Nothing at all."

Anybody who was not Caroline would've noticed the sarcastic edge to that comment.

Caroline skipped away, on the lookout for juicy tidbits of gossip.

"Elena?"

"Bonnie?" Elena asked back, face shining as she cocked her head to the side.

"Can I come over after school? I've got something I think you should know."

Elena's lips quirked up, and she giggled, "Sure."

Bonnie was silent for the entirety of the ride, her shoulders hunched oddly, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Little doubt was cast on her intended topic of speech. Bonnie had become more and more secretive as of late, very likely due to coming into her "inheritance." Elena grinned, admiring her new ring. It was a little gaudy for her tastes, a bright chunk of jade surrounded by mishappenly patterned stainless silver. But she didn't care.

It intended to give her forever.

Elena grabbed Bonnie's hand, and they laughed together and attempted to skip in sync, shoes tapping along the stone walkway leading to the Gilbert house.

Dropping her backpack to the ground, Elena pounced on her bed, smiling as she patted the seat beside her.

"Alright sweetie, what's up?"

"Um… you know how I spent a lot of time studying this summer?"

"Witchcraft with Grams, yup." Elena nodded vigorously.

Bonnie stared, "Yes well, I'm a witch."

"Yay?" Elena raised a brow, waving her arms in the air.

"No really look!" Bonnie sprung up, bolting over to rummage through the closet. She grabbed Elena's pink feather boa, then shook it frantically.

Pink feathers littered the ground. Elena merely watched, amused.

Bonnie held her hand in front of herself, closing her eyes in concentration. The feathers rose.

"Very cool, but I did believe you, Willow."

The witch started, and the feathers dropped back to the floor. "You did?"

"Yup." Elena popped the p.

"Tod's a vampire."

"Knew that too."

"I'm not a virgin."

"What!" Elena tackled Bonnie to the ground. They laughed hysterically, rolling around. Finally, Elena had pinned Bonnie.

"Are you serious?"

"Well yea. I wasn't going to tell you, but then you got all Hermione Granger on me so I had to flaunt some knowledge in your face."

"Been researching witches, have you?"

Bonnie gave Elena a  _look_ , before confusion swept across her expression. "Wait, you know Damon's a vampire, yet you're still dating him?!"

"Willow, Damon's not my boyfriend. Besides, I don't have to worry. I'm immortal."

The witch gulped, "What?"

"I'm a fae."

Bonnie continued to stare.

"We're pretty much immortal creatures that much enjoy engaging in mischief. Actually, I'm a half-blood. My dad had the fae gene, but it was repressed."

"I've never even heard of a fae. Grayson was one?"

Elena's face clouded, "No, of course not. My Uncle John had the gene. However, when he was a baby his super bigoted parents took him to a witch to lock up that part of him. The only reason I'm not fully human is because of the doppelgänger blood."

The fae turned to the witch, giggling at the confusion she found there. Bonnie needed to be in the know, at least a bit, and it was best to build trust before someone else could leak the story. The only thing Elena had to worry about now was her murders being portrayed in a nasty light.

_Please, please don't kill me._

No matter how much trouble it would bring, Elena couldn't stop - the screams were just too delicious.

"John Gilbert is your father?"

"I was actually adopted. A sixteen-year-old girl named Isobel Flemming birthed me… Wait, who was the guy?"

… "What guy?"

"You know what guy! Who'd ya give it up to?"

"This witch I met over the summer. Grams doesn't know about him. His family's a little bit… dark."

"Hm, What's his name?" Elena sung.

"Luka. Luka Martin."

o0o0o0o0o

Jeremy's stomach was twisted up in knots, his eyes prickling, hands clenched into fists. He needed to punch something, do something! Anything to get rid of the confusion and anger. Because Jeremy should be feeling so much worse, he should be hating everything Elena is, everything she stands for.

She was a murderer.

Yet he couldn't help but love her and want to stay. What the hell was wrong with him?

Jer clomped into The Grill, his face screwed up in debate.

Plopping down at a booth, he did a double take when passed by one of the waitresses.

"Vicki?"

"Hey Jer." She gave him a fake smile, then turned away.

"What happened to your neck?"

Said neck was covered in a large white bandage, and she was being careful not to turn more than necessary.

"There was an attack thingy, don't really want to talk about it." She pulled out a notepad, "What do you want?"

"... Just water is fine."

She huffed, then looked around. Vicki scooted in across from him.

"Alright, what's your deal?"

He frowned, "What?"

"You look all," she waved her hand about, "pissy and stuff."

"Family drama." Jeremy stared her down, slightly shocked when she ran her tongue over her lower lip.

"My shift is over in ten minutes. Wanna… blow off some steam?"

He shouldn't, he absolutely shouldn't.

"Alright."

o0o0o0o0o

**Oh, snap! Grams spilled da beans!**

**A bunch of little threads of plot introduced in this chappie:) Yea for progress!**

**If you liked, please review. (Pretty please, with lots of those artificial disgusting cherries on top)**

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to make a point. This is not okay behavior, from anyone, ever. Do not release the vampire your dad keeps in his college's basement and likes to torture. Do not go with him to go murder people. I do not condone this.
> 
> Warning aside, I've always wanted to read an insane Elena story. So WTF I decided to write one. Ta-da! (Jazz hands!)


End file.
